


Sweet Child of Mine

by gypsiangel



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Angst, Blood, Fluff, Gore, M/M, Slash, Violence, Will has a kid, fanfiction is awesome, original character non pairing, reimagined plotline
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-02-20
Updated: 2016-04-22
Packaged: 2018-03-13 21:27:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 15
Words: 47,307
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3396977
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gypsiangel/pseuds/gypsiangel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“What if it was Mina’s picture up there,” Jack pressed, hitting below the belt and knowing exactly what he was doing.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> :) The very beginning of this takes dialogue directly out episodes in season one. Thanks for reading this and if there are any problems with tags please let me know and I'll see what I can do about putting it right.

*~*~*

            “Can I borrow your imagination?” Jack Crawford stood in front of the teaching podium and came as close as he could to pleading. As the head of the Behavioral Science Unit of the FBI, the older man had a knack of getting what he wanted. But not this time, Will Graham firmly decided, zipping his briefcase closed with an almost angry, final sound. The older man had already pushed further than most people would dare with him, crowding his space and going as far as to adjust his glasses and ask about where he stood on the autism spectrum. It was designed to put Will off center, to judge how he would react. Pushing buttons.

            “I’m sorry, Jack. I can’t. I won’t. I have too much to worry about now.” He had Mina. There was no way he was going to put his daughter in danger for anyone, and he’d made a promise to himself and to her that he wouldn’t go into the dark places men like Jack asked him to go. He was good with teaching, it brought in the income that supported him and Mina and he could do his part to help put the bad guys down without risking too much.

            “Will you at least look at what we have and tell us what you can without going out to look?”

            Will closed his eyes briefly and huffed a short sigh. “All right, but that’s it.”

            "Eight girls abducted from eight different Minnesota campuses,” Jack explained as they walked across the FBI academy grounds. “All in the last eight months.”

            “I thought there were seven,” Will said tersely, shooting a glance in his direction.

            “There were.”

            “When did he tag the eighth?”

            “About three minutes before I stepped into your lecture hall.”

            “You’re calling them abductions because you haven’t found any bodies.” Will formed the words as a question, although he already knew the answers.

            “No bodies, no parts of bodies, nothing that comes out of bodies. Nothing,” Jack confirmed, a note of helpless irritation in his tone and Will could feel eyes on him, studying and judging his quick assessment of the details he was given.

            “Then those girls weren’t taken from where you think they were taken.” They rounded the corner and into the administrative offices.

            “Then where were they taken from?”

            “I don’t know,” Will answered. “Someplace else.”

            Jack held the door open for him and he stepped past. “All of them abducted on a Friday so they wouldn’t be reported missing until Monday. Now, however he’s covering his tracks, he needs a weekend to do it.”

            He stood in front of the board of pictures and maps and what little evidence the others had collected. Jack handed him a picture of a pale skinned, auburn haired teenager with dark blue eyes and a slight smile. “Number eight?”

            “Elise Nichols, St. Cloud State on the Mississippi. Disappeared on a Friday, was supposed to house-sit for her parents over the weekend, feed the cat. She never made it home.”

            “One through seven are dead, don’t you think?” Will stared at the girl in the picture, memorizing her features automatically. “He’s not keeping them around. He got himself a new one.”

            “So we focus on Elise Nichols?” He could feel Jack’s eyes on his face watching him as he purposely didn’t look at the other man. He felt a little bit like a trick pony, jumping through hoops. _You don’t have to be here_ , he reminded himself, _Jack came to_ you _, you didn’t come to him. You don’t have to prove anything. Just look at it and go._

He chewed his lip absently and looked at the pretty faces staring back at him. “They’re all very mall of America,” he commented, pinning Elise Nichols back into the lineup where she belonged. “That’s a lot of wind-chafed skin.”

            “Same hair color. Same eye color. Roughly the same age. Same height, same weight. So what is it about all these girls?”

             Will shook his head. “It’s not about all these girls. It’s just about one of them. He’s like Willy Wonka. Every girl he takes is a candy bar. And hidden in amidst all those candy bars is the one true intended victim. Which, if we follow through on our metaphor, is your golden ticket.”

             “So, is he warming up for his golden ticket, or just reliving whatever it is he did to her,” Jack asked, eyes joining Will’s as they looked over the pretty faces staring back at them.

             “The golden ticket wouldn’t be the first taken, and she wouldn’t be the last,” Will informed him, finally looking back in his direction though he still didn’t look directly at Jack’s face. “He would hide how special she was. I mean, I would. Wouldn’t you?” He started back toward the door, his obligation done.

            “I want you to get closer to this.”

            Will continued walking and scooped up his case. “No, you have Heimlich at Harvard, and Bloom at Georgetown. They do the same thing I do.” _Don’t do it,_ he ordered himself though the urge to give in was strong. He missed working a case, the adrenaline and the sense of doing something worthwhile. But he knew that if he gave the agent what he wanted, it wouldn’t be enough. The other man would keep pushing him until he was out there full time and he couldn’t do it again. Not now when he had to think of someone other than himself.

            “That’s not exactly true, is it?” Jack argued smoothly, hands sliding into his pockets as he watched Will turn to return fire. “You have a very specific way of thinking about things.”

            Will stopped and felt bitter laughter well up. “Has there been a lot of discussion about the specific way I think?”

            “You make jumps you can’t explain.” Jack’s expression was earnest, intense.

            “No, no. The _evidence_ explains.” Will felt the old anxiety well up and he knew that his movements were getting jerky as he felt like he was being pushed.

            “Then help me find some evidence.” _Help me find this madman before he takes another young girl,_ Jack’s expression begged. Will closed his eyes to it and averted his gaze before he opened them again.

            “I can’t Jack. I’m sorry, I can’t go back into those places again, not anymore.”

            “What if it was Mina’s picture up there,” Jack pressed, hitting below the belt and knowing exactly what he was doing. Will froze and his expression hardened. The leader of the BAU had done his homework. He shouldn’t have been so surprised. “What if your daughter was missing, Will? Wouldn’t you want someone with your kind of knowledge working on it? With you on our team, we could stop him from pulling another girl off the street.”

            Helpless fury blossomed in his chest and Will stared at the special agent with something akin to hatred. “This is the only one I will help you on,” he stated, his voice carefully controlled. “After this, call someone else.”

            Jack nodded and Will knew that he was already formulating a plan to keep him on his payroll. “I have to go. I need to pick up my daughter from the babysitter.”

*~*~*

            Will sat in the car outside of the babysitter’s home and tried to push all the bad away. He gripped the steering wheel tight, then let go and forced his hands palms down on his thighs. Using meditation techniques he’d picked up, he breathed in deep and let it out slowly. Repeating the process several times, he focused on letting everything leak out with the breath. All the horror, anger, and pain he felt after the confrontation with Jack was pushed away. When he felt more or less calm, he reopened his eyes and opened the car door.

            Mina Graham was waiting impatiently for him by the door. Her brown curls were mussed and her face was red and her light strawberry bow of a mouth was pulled down in a tiny frown. “Daddy, I want to go home.” The abrupt words were softened by the shimmer of tears in her blue eyes as she launched her small mass at his legs.

          “Mina-mine, what’s wrong?” Will knelt down and picked her up, frowning when she buried her face in his neck and started sobbing. “Honey?”

          “Will,” the voice of the young neighbor that had been watching Mina for the last six months sounded hesitant and upset and Will immediately felt a sinking feeling in his stomach. “I need to speak to you. Hey, lovey, would you wanna watch some cartoons while I speak with your daddy?”

          “No.” The answer was firm, if muffled against Will’s shirt. He rubbed her back soothingly, feeling her trembling. He held her a little tighter and pressed a kiss to the side of her head. “I want to go home.”

          “What happened, Annie?”

           The pretty woman sighed and crossed her arms, gesturing or him to follow her into the kitchen. “We had a pretty bad day.” Leaning a generous hip against the counter, her expression was soft when she looked at the two of them. Mina refused to pull her face away from the soothing scent of her daddy’s shirt and Will took a seat at the kitchen table more to comfort her than because he truly wanted or needed to sit down.

            “She’s giving me away,” Mina’s little voice spoke up from where she was still clinging to him and Will’s eyebrows lowered. “Just like Mommy, she doesn’t want me anymore.” Voice cracking, the quiet sniffling erupted back into sobs again.

            “Mina, honey, that’s not it.” The little girl’s words upset her babysitter, who moved to kneel down next to Will and Mina. “I love you, girlie, and I would never give you away.” She looked up at Will and he was caught by the genuine upset in her face. He looked at the whole of her instead of focusing on her eyes.

            “I got a job offer and I can’t babysit anymore,” she explained, falling back to sit on her heels on the floor next to his chair. Her frown deepened when she touched Mina's back and the girl flinched away, burrowing deeper into her father. “I didn’t say anything to Mina about it, wanting to talk to you when you got home tonight. I thought that we could talk to her together, but she knew as soon as she came in the door this morning.”

            Will sighed and rubbed his chin on the top of Mina’s soft curls. He’d been scared of this. At four, Mina was a brilliant kid, far more advanced than what should be normal. Her speech patterns were well developed and so were her development skills. She was also starting to show the same oversensitive and obsessive patterns he recognized in himself. Empathy disorder. Possible autistic leanings. He felt a surge of hopeless sadness, inhaling the childish scent of the strawberry kid’s shampoo he used to wash her hair. He hadn’t wanted this for her.

            “It’s all right, Annie,” he said, attempting a smile. “Do you know anyone trustworthy that can babysit for me? We have a childcare center at the academy, but I would rather go with someone private so I don’t have her growing up at the FBI offices. When do you start with your other job? I was roped into an active case and I have to go out of town here and there for the next couple weeks.”

            “I start next month, so I can go ahead and keep her for you for now. It’s a local job, so if I need to keep her overnight here and there, I can.” Annie looked relieved when he didn’t seem too upset. “I just can’t watch her during the day.”

            “I’ll speak with her, Annie,” he assured her, smiling even though he was a little upset too. It was really hard for him to find someone he trusted enough to take care of his daughter. The overnights would definitely only be with Annie, and he knew it would be better to have Mina socialized a little bit more before she went to a proper school. While he and Annie worked with her a lot, being with kids her own age would be a whole different ballgame. Especially since her personality was so similar to his own. He wanted to give her the opportunities that he didn’t have when he was a kid. She was going to have a stable environment where she could flourish and learn to control the so-called gifts she’d inherited from him.

            After a little more conversation where Will learned the exact date he needed to have other arrangements made and he reassured Annie that he wasn’t upset with her, he loaded Mina up into her seat. “Mina, honey, Annie isn’t giving you away,” he told her, buckling the unhappy child in. She’d calmed down, but she was still understandably out of sorts. Mina’s mother had left when the girl was less than a year old and he hadn't ever had the heart to explain it to her. He hadn't been able to find the right words to help her understand. Maybe when she was older it would be easier.

            “I don’t want to go to somebody else,” she pouted, crossing her thin arms. Huge blue eyes fixed on his and he felt a warmth in his chest when he saw his own scowl on her pretty face. Was there anything her mother had left in the child? If there was, Will didn’t see it.

            “How about we go home and play with Winston for a bit and I’ll make pancakes for dinner?”

            The cloud lifted just a little at the prospect of her dog and her favorite food. “With peanut butter?”

            “What? Peanut butter?” Will looked mock horrified, throwing his hand over his eyes dramatically. Rewarded with a giggle, he grinned back at her and kissed her nose. “Of course we can have peanut butter.”

*~*~*

            “She likes trains. Maybe she just got on a train and…” Will listened to Elise Nichol’s father, keeping his back to the upset parents as he looked at the framed photos set across the shelves in the entryway.

            “She looks like the other girls.” The mother’s voice carried the strain of knowing how likely it was that her daughter wasn’t going to be coming home.

            Will’s hands fisted in his jacket pocket when he heard Jack’s reply. “Yes, she fits the profile.”

            Her father asked, “Could Elise still be alive?”

            Jack’s answer, “We simply have no way of knowing.”

            After a tense half-minute lull, Will asked, “How’s the cat.”

            “What?”

            “How’s your cat? Elise was supposed to feed it. Was the cat weird when you came home? It must have been hungry. It didn’t eat all weekend.” Jack’s thunderous expression cleared somewhat when he realized exactly where Will was going with the strange and seemingly inappropriate question.

            “I didn’t notice.” The father looked incredulous.

            Will looked at Jack and pulled him a couple feet back. “He took her from here. She got on a train, she fed the cat.” Will’s eyes darted to Jack’s face, then away, then back. His voice was low. “He took her.”

            Jack held his phone up to his ear and didn’t bother holding his voice down when he said, “The Nichols’ house is a crime scene. I need ERT immediately. I want Zeller, Katz, and Jimmy Price. And I need a photographer.”

            “Can I see your daughter’s room,” Will asked, then followed the girl’s father up the stairs and down the hall.

            He took a deep breath when he noticed the cat clawing at the bottom of the closed door. He knew what he was going to find and he wanted to make the other man go back downstairs. Instead, he ordered, “Mr. Nichols, please put your hands in your pockets and avoid touching anything.”

            “We’ve been in and out of there all day.” More confusion and a healthy spike of fear.

            Will looked down at the cat and offered, “You can hold the cat if it’s easier.”

            He opened the door and saw the girl laid out in the bed as if she was merely sleeping.

*~*~*

            The flight home was quiet and he tried to decompress from the discovery of Elise Nichols and the aftermath. The feelings rolling through him were relatively normal for how he usually dealt with ‘walking’ the crime scene, except that this time it was different. It seemed to cut deeper, go further than it ever had before. The man who had killed the pretty teenager had felt… paternal… toward her. Mixed in with the bloodlust and the horrible psychotic twist in reality, the murderer felt a sort of love for her. When he hadn’t been able to finish what he started, he’d felt an almost crushing guilt.

            Pushing and pulling the thoughts and feelings around and around, Will tried to make some sense out of it all. He would be back in Virginia soon and he would go pick up his own daughter and bring her home. He would carry her tiny body into her little purple and green bedroom so she could sleep in her own bed. He would watch her sleep and stroke her fine curls back, and he would see a different girl in a different bed.

*~*~*

            Will woke up to the sound of a very upset four year old. Terrified screams rang through the farmhouse, accompanied by the concerned howl of the mutt that had come to fetch Will the moment Mina had started to thrash in her nightmare. He followed the cries down the hall to Mina’s bedroom and flipped on the hall light so it wouldn’t be too startling to her sensitive eyes. This wasn’t anything new, for either of them. It was yet another trait she had inherited from him. Night terrors.

            He woke her up gently, saying her name just loud enough to let her know it was him. “D-daddy?” That was his cue that it was okay to pick her up and cradle her sweat-soaked form against his chest. He had learned that timing was important. If he tried to pick her up before she was completely aware, it could lead to a screaming fit that made them both sick. She had to know it was him and not one of the monsters that plagued her dreams.

            “I’ve got you, baby,” he murmured and sat down cross-legged on the unicorn bedspread, holding her tight. “I’m here.”

            “Th-they were sleeping in the red, and then they weren’t. Their eyes were open, but they didn’t see anything.”

            His stomach twisted painfully at her sobbed words and he stroked her hair and murmured nonsense until he felt her trembling ease and her breathing slow. “Daddy?”

            “Yeah, baby?”

            “C-can I sleep with you and Winston? My room is scary.”

            “Of course you can. How about we change you into a dry nightgown and get a glass of milk and maybe a cookie before we go back to sleep?” She hiccupped and nodded, but stayed where she was for another few minutes.

            Finally, she pulled away and asked, “Can we have one of the peanut butter cookies Annie made?”

            “Yeah,” he said softly and set her down on the floor, getting up to go to her dresser. “We can have a peanut butter cookie.” He pulled out a fresh nightgown and handed it to her, taking the one she’d just pulled over her head. Dressed in dry nightclothes, she raised her arms for him to pick her up again, which he did gladly. She wasn’t prone to being clingy, only reaching to he held when she was upset or hurt, and even then he and Annie were the only ones she wanted.

            Later, filled with milk and cookies and her upset soothed, she curled up to his side and drifted off into sleep again. This time she knew that her daddy would make sure she was safe. Will lay awake for a while longer, stroking her hair and staring at the ceiling. He just hoped that the day would never come when her demons became real.

*~*~*


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OMG, guys I am overwhelmed by the amount of people who like this! Wow! Thank you, and I hope that I don't disappoint you guys as I continue. :D Again, a quick warning that some of the dialogue is directly out of the episode. I never thought I'd appreciate the subtitle option... ever. ;)

*~*~*

            _“I have to go give a lecture… on psychoanalyzing.”_ His parting shot hadn’t been all that brilliant, but it was the best thing he could come up with when he was brimming with furious irritation. It was better than resorting to handing over his gun and badge on the spot, or smashing his balled fist into the smug bastard’s face. Jack’s or Dr. Lecter’s, he wasn’t quite sure which one he’d be aiming for.

            He decided on Jack as he stormed into the men’s restroom to try to calm himself down before leaving to pick up Mina. He was doing the man a favor by going into this situation; a situation that he had all but begged to be left out of. Jack had pulled him in using dirty maneuvers and then had the audacity to try and trick him into a psych evaluation. It was humiliating and infuriating. As was the older man’s aggressive and bully-like attitude. The more Will worked with him, the more he wanted to just walk away. The case was coming together, the pieces fitting into a pattern of sorts. It didn’t make much sense in a clinical setting, but it was coming together. A _sensitive psychopath_ was what Jack had called their perpetrator. Will wasn’t even sure if psychopath was the right word for what he was seeing when he looked into the killer.

            He gripped the sink and stared at the water running into the white porcelain, watching the individual beads rushing around like bubbles to pool in the bottom. He wanted to quit right then and there, but when he closed his eyes, he saw Elise Nichols. He saw her father’s face when they discovered her in her bed, gutted and bled like a slaughtered animal. He saw Mina, curled up under her unicorn blanket.

            “Damn you, Jack,” he whispered. The man hadn’t made it to the head of the BAU without being ruthless about getting results. He leaned in and splashed cool water over his face, letting it calm the prickles of heat in his cheeks. He focused on his breathing. In and out. In and out. The old pattern worked again to soothe his racing heartbeat and the red in his vision faded out once more. His hands still shook, however, but he felt a little better equipped to deal with everything. Just a little while longer and he could go back to his teaching and leave the rest of this rat race to people without so much to lose; people who didn’t walk that thin line of psychosis themselves.

            Obviously Jack recognized at least a little bit of that line. Otherwise, he wouldn’t have called in the good psychologist Dr. Lecter. He’d heard of the Lithuanian doctor, in a roundabout way, of course. Will usually had too much going on to really pay attention to such things except for a dim acknowledgment of idle comments made by others. Alana Bloom was certainly a fan.

            _“I imagine what you see and learn touches everything else in your mind. Your values and decency are present yet shocked at your associations. Appalled at your dreams. No forts in the bone arena of your skull for things you love.”_ The man was good, Will had to give him that. But he didn’t know everything and Will wasn’t about to give him more to work with. The fury swelled again and he bent to rest his burning forehead against the porcelain sink. Jack was pushing his luck with this thing with Dr. Lecter. He was pushing it every time he bullied his way into Will’s space and shouted his frustration into the one person he was relying on to fix this clusterfuck of a case.

            Jack Crawford thought he knew the way to keep Will on his team, on his payroll, and under his thumb. Guilt trips only went so far. He thought of Mina and his stomach soured. He had to go pick her up from Annie’s very soon and he didn’t want to be this tightly wound. Again the temptation to go to Jack’s office and turn over his gun and field badge was so strong he could actually picture himself doing it. He could go back to his classroom and his teaching. Monday through Friday with the occasional Saturday spent grading papers and doing lesson plans. Dissecting and profiling the sickness in man through research and case studies instead of through fresh blood and elbow-deep in bodies. He could go home to his little girl without worrying about infecting her with the sick darkness he kept peering into and inviting into his mind and soul.

            Instead, he focused on his breathing and thought about fishing. Maybe he and Mina could take this Saturday and go to the river by the farmhouse and cast a few flies. It was supposed to be clear and beautiful. He brought _those_ images up into the ‘bone arena of his skull’ and the gentle rush and flow of the imagined water did what everything else couldn’t. He slowly relaxed and shut off the water in the sink, reaching for the paper towels to dry his hands and face.

            Now. Now, it was time to go get Mina from Annie’s.

*~*~*

            Dr. Hannibal Lecter was not a huge fan of children. He didn’t _dislike_ them as a rule, but they were more of a nuisance that he preferred to avoid. As such, he was more than a little perturbed to be assaulted by one in the nearly empty halls of the FBI training academy. The small bodied female came around the corner as fast as her short, little legs could carry her, giggling as she escaped from what he could only assume was a negligent parent that had let her loose on the unsuspecting building. She crashed into his legs at full tilt, bounced off, then fell on her backside with a surprised ‘oomph’.

            He stared down at her oddly familiar face, seeing the wide dark blue eyes, unruly curls and cupid-bow mouth. His smile was slow and consciously gentle as he squatted down to be more at her level. “Hello, little one. Where did you come from?”

            To give her credit, she didn’t cry or go into shy mode as most children her age did when confronted with him. She cautiously clambered to her feet and regarded him with curiosity, making sure that she was a decent distance away. “Daddy doesn’t know I got out,” she said almost primly as she decided that he was okay for the moment. Her lips quirked up in a mischievous smile.

            Just then there was the sound of running feet and none other than Will Graham came around the corner, calling, “Mina! Come on, we don’t have time for this.”

            The young profiler stopped just before barreling over the two of them. In a smooth move no doubt borne of endless practice, Will scooped up the little girl and propped her against his hip. She wrapped her legs around his waist and held on, giggling again at being caught. “You’re in a fine mood, today, Mina-mine.” Hannibal hid his smirk expertly as he straightened from his crouch, adjusting his clothes back into line. Another piece of the puzzle fell into place on the board.

            “I didn’t know you had a child, Will.”

            Will looked over at him, his own mask falling into place. It was fascinating to see the wariness warring with the need to keep his more instinctive feelings of distrust for Hannibal from seeping through to his daughter. “Dr. Lecter, this is my daughter, Mina.”

            The therapist nodded his head regally, finding and keeping a neutral but kid-friendly smile as he held his hand out for the no-doubt sticky fingers of the girl. She shrank back a little now, becoming shy when she had her father to hide behind. She tucked her fingers into Will’s shirt, gripping the fabric to avoid touching the strange man. Interesting. It seemed as if even though Will was careful to keep his misgivings and dislike for the doctor from showing on the outside, little Mina was sensitive enough to pick up on it anyway. Smart girl.

            “I was actually here to speak to you, Will.” Hannibal smoothly turned to the other man. “Jack mentioned an appointment for us to pursue our conversations. I was just coming to see if you were available for tonight.”

            “I’m sorry, Dr. Lecter,” Will answered, then smiled down at his daughter. He jiggled her a little, making her smile back before resting her head on his shoulder. “Mina and I have a date with the minions tonight. Don’t we, kiddo?”

            Brown curls bounced as Mina nodded and her grin was less hesitant as she turned it up toward him. The gesture was so much easier than that of her father’s, but it was a direct echo of the same curve. “I’ve been working a lot lately and we haven’t had a lot of time to do very much outside of work and sleep. Barring any kind of breakthroughs, I’m working from home this weekend.”

            Hannibal had no idea what minions were in the context of children’s activities and he wasn’t quite sure he wanted to. But he was charming when he said, “We can schedule for early next week, then.” He leaned down a little bit and asked, “Would you like to see a magic trick, Miss Mina?” It was a paltry disappearing coin trick he had learned a very long time ago in his days at the expensive boarding school his uncle had sent him to, but the girl lit up at the simple gestures. Children at their core were all very similar, especially in their early development.

            “Daddy, did you see that? He can do it too!” Mina’s eyes were huge and shining as she looked up at her father, hero-worship all over her darling face. “My Daddy’s gonna teach me when I’m five.”

            “Is that right?” Hannibal should have known. Of course William Graham knew simple magic tricks. A mind his sharp would pick up on the sleight of hand much easier than most. His smile turned a little wicked as he said, “I would like to see some of your magic, Will.” A slight blush tinted the younger man’s cheeks and he knew that the double meaning got through, though he would probably write it off as his own imagination.

            “Yeah, Daddy,” Mina chirped, oblivious to her father’s embarrassment. “Dr. Le…. Lec…” She fumbled over the doctor’s name, her brow furrowing as she realized her mouth wasn’t cooperating with what she wanted to say.

            “You may call me Hannibal, Mina,” he offered graciously and was rewarded with a soft, grateful look from Will.

            “Okay, Dr. Hannibal.” He shouldn’t have been so pleased by her insistence on still calling him doctor. She said his first name slowly and carefully, imitating the syllables nearly perfectly. Charmed despite himself, he stepped back and made his goodbyes. He watched as the two moved down the hallway back toward Will’s office to pick up his briefcase before leaving for their ‘date with the minions’, whatever that might mean. A few feet down the way, Will lowered the girl to the floor and she took his hand to walk next to him, chattering in a way that didn’t quite reach Hannibal’s ears. This was an interesting development, one that he pondered all the way back to his own office. In the few minutes he had observed, Will had been calm and more or less centered, a drastic change from the twitchy and irritable mess he had been the last couple times they had spoken. This bore further examination.

*~*~*

            “Dr. Hannibal!” The sheer, unfettered happiness carried in the young, clear bell of a voice was a lovely sound to the doctor’s ears when the littlest Graham flung open the door to the farmhouse. Mina was dressed in a pair of denim bibbed overalls and a white and pink shirt with short ruffled sleeves. Her tiny feet were encased in black and pink socks with no shoes. She was covered in flour and there were smudges of it on her face and in her hair. Her blue eyes shone up at him in excitement and there was a rose tint to her rounded cheeks. “Come in! We’re making pancakes!”

            “Of course you are,” Hannibal smiled back at her, stepping inside the warm house. It was almost too warm, but supposed that like her father, she ran on the cooler side. Will was always wearing layer upon layer as if he were expecting a snowstorm at any moment. Though he really didn’t know for sure, he guessed, “Pancakes are your favorite, are they not?”

            She nodded emphatically, the little ponytail at the back of her head bouncing. “I’m helping.”

            Right on cue, Hannibal heard Will’s voice ring out from the kitchen, warm with a comfortable affection that the therapist hadn’t expected to ever hear from him. “Where did my helper go? Oh, well, I guess I’ll just have to pour this milk in the batter all by myself.”

            Mouth going into a little ‘oh’, she jumped up a little bit and impulsively grabbed Hannibal’s hand, tugging him into the kitchen. “Come on, Dr. Hannibal! I don’t want to miss pouring the milk!” It seemed that her mistrust of him had been an instinctual reflection of her father’s. He had no doubt that her perception of him could change rapidly and with little provocation except what her sensitive nature could discern. As such, he purposely kept his surface thoughts neutral and benign.

            Charmed once again, despite the feel of sticky fingers in his, he allowed the mini-hurricane to tug him across the living room and into the kitchen. Will was standing in a pair of flannel pajama pants and that was it. Shirtless and more at ease than he had ever appeared outside of his home, the sight of Will’s bare shoulders and broad back made Hannibal’s mouth go dry. He had known there was more to Will Graham than jeans and layers of soft fabric that made him seem fragile and thin. The reality was much better.

            “Daddy, Dr. Hannibal is here,” Mina stated, still holding onto the doctor’s hand. Will looked startled, turning around to see his unofficial psychiatrist in his kitchen on a Sunday morning. There was a stepstool pulled up against the cabinet next to him and all the ingredients for homemade pancake batter were strewn across the countertops. A cloud rolled across his face, but was quickly smoothed as he smiled down at his daughter.

            “I see that, Mina-mine. Are you gonna help me with the milk, or will Winston finally get his chance to be the helper?” Hannibal was taken in by the teasing glint in Will’s eyes, the blue more vivid without the usual lenses acting as a buffer.

            “Oh, no, Daddy! Winston would be a bad helper,” Mina giggled and let go of Hannibal’s hand, rushing to climb the stepstool again.

            “Let’s wash our hands before we go elbow deep again.” Then he was carrying the child over to the sink and balanced her on his hip as she deftly washed her hands with a little help. The picture they made was perfection itself; the little girl fit seamlessly against her father’s side as she leaned to place both her hands under the water. Hannibal watched the play of muscles dance across Will’s shoulder and knew that he wanted to sketch the scene.

            “Good morning, Doctor.” The smile Will tossed over his shoulder was tense but genuine. Once both their hands were dry and they were back to mixing the batter, he asked, “Did you have breakfast yet?”

            “I had come to ask the two of you the same.” He found it unusually easy to return the smile. “I brought a breakfast to share.”

            “Well, we can add it to the pancakes,” Will said, pushing the measuring cup toward his daughter. She took it in both hands and with a look of pure concentration, lifted it and slowly poured it into the mixing bowl. “Would you like some coffee?”

            “That sounds wonderful.” He watched Will hand the little girl a spoon and then turn to the coffee maker.

            “Mix slow, Mina,” Will instructed without looking. “We don’t want to make a mess, right?”

            “Right, Daddy,” Mina answered automatically, concentrating on her task. She slowly stirred the mixture, the wooden spoon too big for her hand.

            “Have a seat,” Will offered, waving a hand at the kitchen table and chairs that were set off to the side of the rather large kitchen, near the French doors that led out into an impressive back deck. There was still a tightness around his eyes and mouth, but he kept his face pleasant even though his daughter was concentrating on her task instead of the two men in the background. Hannibal appreciated the effort as he took the cup handed to him. “Cream or sugar?”

            “None, thank you,” came the polite response and Hannibal raised the dark brew to his lips. Medium roast, freshly ground organic beans, made with spring water out of the tap. It was better than he had anticipated. There was a lot more to the scruffy profiler than what was first evident. He had known that from the moment he had watched the younger man walk into Jack Crawford’s office and proceed to both intrigue and captivate his interest. So far the few layers he had managed to peel back were complex, made even more potent by the possibilities of what might happen if he were to be pushed one direction or the other.

            Young Mina had been an unexpected and thrilling discovery. In fact, that was the purpose of this surprise visit out to Wolf Trap- to observe the difference between the Will he showed to the outside world and the Will that was the father. He had seen a taste of the hybrid personality in the halls of the FBI academy when he had inadvertently run into the two together as they were leaving for the weekend. He had fallen into a bit of an obsessive thought pattern through the rest of his Friday afternoon and into Saturday, musing over the endless possibilities. It was as if Will were two different people all together. The doctor had wondered what he would be like without the child in his life. Would he be less stable and more malleable? Would the care he showed himself and his surroundings cease if he didn’t have someone depending upon him to be strong enough to function normally?

            “Do you want blueberries in the pancakes, Mina-mine?”

            “Oh! Do we have strawberries?” The little one was so excited by the idea of the fruit that she forgot she was stirring and flung the spoon covered in batter up over her head, splattering the white mixture all over her hair and the floor. The pair froze and looked at each other, then the girl started giggling, Will following suit.

            “Silly munchkin,” he chuckled, leaning down to kiss the top of her head. “You’re gonna need a bath after breakfast, and so is the kitchen.”

            Hannibal found himself smiling bemusedly at them as he cradled his cup of coffee, an unusual pang of longing coasting through him at their closeness. He had never been a part of something so innocent and perfect. It was a beautiful moment that he suddenly very much wanted to be a part of rather than just a spectator. There was a spark of change in his ‘design’ as Will called it. When two sets of dancing blue eyes turned to look at him, he knew what he wanted.

*~*~*

            “The stag head was reported stolen last night, about a mile from here.”

            Will stood several feet back away from the tableau of the pale girl impaled on the impressive spread of antlers. He swallowed hard and blinked slowly before asking, “Just the head?”

            “Minneapolis Homicide’s already made a statement.” Jack wasn’t looking at him, his morbidly fascinated gaze fixed on the newest victim of what he thought was their killer. “They’re calling him the Minnesota Shrike.”

            “Like the bird?” It seemed strange to be talking so calmly about this while the crime scene techs shooed away the crows that had flocked to feast on the girl’s dull, purpling white flesh. Their words were almost conversational, like they were discussing the timetable for his next lecture.

            Jimmy Price stood up from his crouch directly beside the stuffed head. “Shrike’s a perching bird. Impales mice and lizards on thorny branches and barbed wire,” he informs them, and there is finally a miniscule note of horror, “Rips their organs right out of their bodies, puts them in a little birdie pantry, and eats them later.”

            Will feels sick and Beverly Katz turns her face away from the body and eyes him as he finally walks closer.

            “I can’t tell if it’s sloppy or shrewd,” Jack comments dryly.

            Incredulous anger chases away the instinctive nausea as he accurately reads the scene. “He wanted her found this way.” He nearly spits the words, “It’s petulant.”

            Everyone is watching him now as he stands directly over the young woman and looks down. Her head is thrown back and he can see her opened up from navel to sternum, her insides gleaming a black-red in the early morning autumn sun. “I almost feel like he’s mocking her.” He squatted down to look at her from eyelevel, face almost a foot away from her profile. The smell of her fills his senses and he immediately shuts down that part of him that automatically reels. “Or mocking us.”

            “Where did all his love go?” Jack was almost mocking _him_ with the soft question, reminding him of their conversation in the bathroom almost a week and a half ago.

            Will ignored the undertone and said quietly, almost dreamily, “Whoever tucked Elise Nichols into bed didn’t paint this picture.” As he says it, things click into place. Click, click… and click.

            Someone says in the background, “He took her lungs.” It was Zeller, and Will can hear the other man swallow hard. “I’m pretty sure she was alive when he cut them out.”

            “Our cannibal loves women.” Will looked up at Jack from his crouch. He didn’t realize how earnest his tone was as he defended what he was saying, “He doesn’t want to destroy them. He wants to _consume_ them, to keep some part of them inside.”

            He stood up, becoming agitated and it was hard to keep standing there, feeling everyone’s eyes on him. He felt too warm and too cold all at once. His hands were shaking. “This girl’s killer thought that she was a pig.” He started walking away, an irrational spike of anger making him want to be anywhere but in that field in Minnesota.

            Jack called out, “You think this was a copycat?”

            “The cannibal who killed Elise Nichols had a place to do it and no interest in field Kabuki.” Will stopped and turned to address the people watching him with fascinated and somewhat concerned respect. In the background the local uniform cops and FBI personnel were combing the grass for any kind of evidence. There was no use telling them that there wouldn’t be any kind of evidence to find. He laid out the puzzle pieces. “So, he has a house, or two, or a cabin, something with an antler room.”

            He stopped, looked at the girl splayed out like a mock offering to the old gods. It _was_ an offering, just not to any god. He thought about Mina, her absolute and unwavering trust and love of him. He thought about how neatly and lovingly Elise Nichols had been tucked into bed. Paternal. The killer had felt paternal toward the young women. There was a note of awful realization, “He has a daughter.” His voice was thick as he continued the line of thought, “The same age as the other girls. Same… same hair color, same eye color, same height, same weight. She’s an only child. She’s leaving home.”

            “He can’t stand the thought of losing her.” He swallowed hard against the rising emotion and panic his own words are bringing up. _“My Daddy’s gonna teach me when I’m five.”_

            “She’s his golden ticket.” Will needed to go. He needed to step away and breathe, he needed to go away somewhere quiet and calm to get this out of him. It was too much. Jack stopped him.

            “What about the copycat?”

            His words were almost flippant as he gave his answer. Fuck Jack and fuck this entire situation. He shouldn’t be here. “You know, an intelligent psychopath, particularly a sadist, is very hard to catch. There’s no traceable motive. There’ll be no patterns. He may never kill this way again.”

            Then he left them to it, walking as rapidly as he could manage without running.

*~*~*

  


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow! I was not expecting this kind of awesomeness! Thank you guys for your response :D I really hope I don't screw this up.

*~*~*

            “What happened to Mina’s mother, Will,” Hannibal started their conversation. He sat across from Will in his chair and watched the other man with hooded eyes, gauging his reaction. No doubt Will had expected him to start with the repercussions of the grisly scene in Minnesota, to discuss the obvious mental and physical strain it had put him under. That would come, but not right this moment. Starting with this question that had been burning at him since he had stumbled upon the existence of little Mina served two purposes. First, it would satiate his almost rabid curiosity to know more about Will’s past. And second, it would put the younger man off guard and more open to honesty when expressing the revelations and subsequent devastation his work with the Shrike had wrought.

            There was a huff of laughter and rolled eyes, “I knew you wouldn’t leave this alone.” He had been home for three days, long enough to restore some semblance of balance. He hadn’t been completely successful, the details he had gleaned from the Shrike were still lurking just under the surface. His nightmares had gotten worse and for three nights running, he had woken up in a cold sweat and gasping for breath. It had gotten to the point where he slept only when he absolutely had to. Mina was acting out more, throwing tantrums in a direct result of his own unsettled psyche. He was having trouble with patience, especially when she was crying at the drop of a hat and getting angry if her shoes weren’t tied correctly. Just this morning, he’d had to diffuse a screaming fit over toothpaste.

            Hannibal waited. Finally, Will crossed his arms and slouched in his seat. “I have no idea where Mina’s mother is right now, and as long as she stays away, I don’t need to know. We’re better off without her.”

            “There isn’t any bitterness in your answer,” Hannibal observed, “Only weariness.” And no small amount of pique at having to talk about something he would rather leave in the shadows where it belonged. The therapist soaked up the last, cataloging the changes in the young profiler since the last time he had seen him, which had been the Sunday breakfast before he had left his ‘gift’ on Monday. Will had been gone with Jack’s team the rest of that week and the time away from home had obviously been detrimental. He looked exhausted and haunted, his eyes a stormy grayish blue that retained some of the glassy horror of what he had seen when he had taken that final glimpse into their killer. Despite all of this, their interaction seemed easier after the pleasant hours they had spent together with Mina in the sunlit kitchen over breakfast.

             After their breakfast, Will had washed the batter out of his daughter’s hair and changed her into different clothes before they all went for a short hike with the golden mutt that Mina seemed to adore. The conversation they had shared while the four year old ran ahead with the dog had been filled with smooth banter and light topics. Will had proven to be wonderfully well-rounded. It shouldn’t have come as such a pleasant surprise to Hannibal that his reading tastes had ranged everywhere from the classics to new age science fiction and fantasy. They had discussed the differences between modern horror writers and the old masters like Poe and Lovecraft. It had been engaging and highly entertaining. And it had left him with a hunger for more.

            “She wasn’t much of a mother or a wife when she was around, so there wasn’t much to miss when she left.”

            “Tell me about her?”

             For a moment, Hannibal thought that the other man would brush it off in true fashion, but he heaved a sigh, rubbed at his forehead, and said, “I met Lexie when I was a cop in New Orleans and studying criminology to go into the FBI academy. She worked the diner down the street from the station and she seemed to be the only one that didn’t think I was a freak. We struck up conversation and she asked me out to dinner and I was so thrown off guard that I agreed. She was beautiful and quirky and charming. We dated for a few weeks, found out she was pregnant, I married her and then I was hurt on the job. I decided to take the position with the FBI. She hated Wolf Trap, she hated the hours I worked, and she hated the person I became when I was inside the heads of the psychos men like Jack Crawford sent me in after.”

            There was a lot more to it than what Will was giving him, but Hannibal took what was offered, for now. “She started leaving Mina at home with a babysitter while I was gone. She did it without telling me and one day she didn’t get home before I did and I found Mina in a mess. The girl Lexie had hired was having sex with someone in my bed and my daughter was screaming in her bedroom. Her diaper hadn’t been changed in hours and she was filthy and hungry.”

            “Did that make you angry?” Hannibal could see that the reminder of the past events was enough to bring a fresh flush of remembered rage to his companion’s cheeks. Long, capable fingers clenched into fists where they rested on his lap and the doctor couldn’t help a small rush of heat at the restrained emotion he could see vibrating just under the surface. In true form, he had chosen the right time and place for this discussion. His companion’s guard was worn down just enough.

            “Of course it made me angry.” Will shot him a look that said clearly said _‘don’t patronize me’._ “I threw the woman out, dealt with the care of my daughter and when Lexie came home, we had… words.”

            There was a certain connotation to the way Will said those last words that sent a bit of a dark thrill through him. He raised an eyebrow.

            “Mina wasn’t quite a year. We’ve been on our own since then.” Hannibal was a bit disappointed to not hear more of the… words… that had ended his marriage to the unfortunate woman who hadn’t realized what a treasure she had in the fascinating young man. Instead of pushing, he allowed that there would be ample time to flesh out the information later. So to speak.

            “And how does young Mina cope without her mother?”

             Will’s eyes lightened a shade when he spoke next, pride and love moving the orbs from a stormy gray to a lighter, purer blue. His lips twisted up in a gentle curve. “She has her moments, but she’s smart and strong and everything a little girl should be. I’m doing everything in my power to keep it that way.”

             “She is named for you, is she not?” It was a guess, but he knew that Mina was often a shortened version of Wilhelmina, which was the feminine form of the old German name Wilhelm. Which was a form of William.

             Will nodded. “Wilhelmina Grace. It was actually Lexie’s idea. She was a fan of the Dracula movies and liked Mina. It just so happened to coincide with naming her after me. I should have known it was a foreshadowing of things to come.”

             “Wilhelmina means determined protector.”

             Will looked at him, his smile a touch on the bitter side. “I would rather not talk about this anymore, Dr. Lecter.”

             Hannibal nodded, “Very well, Will. What shall we talk about?” He allowed Will to move the conversation toward more a neutral and productive vein and they discussed the week he had spent working the Minnesota Shrike case. He kept the more emotional aspects of it out at first, giving Hannibal the surface rundown of logistics and physical evidence.

             “We’re going through employee records of most of the metal working companies. In a few days we’ll have a big enough list to send us back out to check door to door with the offices and homes of potential suspects.”

             "When that happens, I would like to come with you,” Hannibal said, seeing an opportunity to observe in a more professional setting. He wanted to watch Will work, to see his empathic abilities in action. “If I may, I could offer a different perspective and an extra set of eyes is never a wrong choice.”

             Will shrugged and shifted in his chair, looking at the clock on the wall behind Hannibal’s chair. His hour was almost up. “I’m sure Jack wouldn’t mind, but you’d have to clear it with him first.”

            “I will be sure to do just that,” Hannibal answered and made a show of checking his wristwatch. He hadn’t gotten as far as he would have liked in his discussion. He made the offer, “Would you like to join me for dinner, Will? I have a meal nearly prepared at home and I would greatly appreciate the company.”

            Will hesitated, thinking of Mina, who was on her last official day with Annie as her babysitter. After the emotional rollercoaster of the last few days, he was almost reluctant to dive into more of the hyper-sensitive world of trying to placate her upset. He sighed. It was a sign that things had gone a bit too off kilter that he was considering dinner with his therapist as a calm and bracing event. That really wasn’t fair, he mused. Dr. Lecter had proven to be a fairly decent man, and he had started to actually _like_ him. Will didn’t like people easily.

            “I need to call and check in with Mina’s babysitter. She’s been having a rough time lately and I want to make sure she’s okay staying a little later.”

            “You may use my waiting room to make your call,” Hannibal offered, “I need to finish a few notes for my paperwork anyway. Come back in when you are ready.”

            Will nodded and stepped outside, pulling his phone out to make his call. Five minutes and a short conversation later, he was stepping back inside. Hannibal was sitting at his desk, his sandy hair falling into his face as he finished hand-writing his notes. The light shone on his striking features and Will couldn’t help the slight flare of attraction. He easily pushed it aside in favor of clearing his throat.

            “The babysitter says they’re doing fine,” he said when the doctor looked up. His mouth quirked in a half-smile. “Mina’s not going to be very happy when I go pick her up anyway, so it’s best to let them have their evening.”

            “Why is that?” Hannibal finished the line he was writing, then closed the leather bound book and set it aside. He stood up and went across the room to the coat rack.

            “Today’s Annie’s last day babysitting Mina,” Will said and followed him out. “She doesn’t take to change very easily and I haven’t had time to find and interview other people to take Annie’s place.”

            “I may have a few suggestions as to childcare, if you would like.”

            Will looked surprised, but happy enough with the offer. “Thank you. That would be great. We’re gonna try the daycare at the academy for a few days. It will probably end up a total disaster, but unless Jack will let me take a few days leave, I don’t have much choice.”

            “I will gather a list of potential candidates for you tomorrow, then,” Hannibal gestured for Will to precede him out the main door so he could lock up. “Would you like to follow me to my home?”

            Once ensconced in his kitchen, jacket off and his waist covered in a clean white apron, Hannibal approached the subject of Mina’s sensitive behavior. “You were saying that little Mina has been having a rough time?”

            Will looked into the glass of dark amber liquid Hannibal had poured for him the moment they had settled in. Homebrewed beer. He wanted to ask if there was something the good doctor _didn’t_ do, and do exceptionally well. He took off his glasses and rubbed at his eyes tiredly. “She’s been throwing tantrums more lately and her bad dreams are getting worse.”

            “Do you believe it could be a reflection of your own tension?”

            Will nodded and looked guilty. “Neither one of us has been having a good time of it lately, to be honest.”

            “And your own dreams?”

            Will snorted and took a swallow of his beer. He sighed and looked up, glancing at exotic eyes almost the exact shade as the ale he was drinking. He looked away almost immediately, not wanting to see what the other man offered. He didn’t need to know. Not now, and maybe not ever. He’d built up a level of trust, but not that much. Everyone had their secrets and Will didn’t want to see into Hannibal’s. It was nice having a friendship without the extra layers of trying to figure the extent of surface character versus what lay underneath. He never felt this at ease with people. It usually took years for this level of comfort, especially after a start as rocky as theirs had been.

            “My dreams haven’t been that pleasant either, Doctor.”

            “Hannibal.” Will raised his eyebrow and looked at the thin but charming smile. “I believe we have gone past titles, Will. Please, call me Hannibal. We are friends, are we not?”

            “I’m not good at being a friend,” Will admitted, but his tone was more weary than argumentative. He returned the smile, glanced up at Hannibal’s eyes for another half-second, then turned his attention to the quick and efficient way he was dicing red peppers into tiny bits. The stainless steel blade looked at home in the other man’s hand, balanced and probably incredibly expensive. He noticed how graceful those hands were, large but elegant as they swept and chopped and stirred. Forearms exposed by his sleeves being rolled up almost to his elbows were surprisingly well muscled and strong.

            Will swallowed and looked away, missing the knowing smirk Hannibal hid just before turning to the sizzling pan behind him. “Well, I am very good at being a friend, so we can meet somewhere in the middle, then, shall we?”

            “I can do that, Doctor… Hannibal,” Will answered, then chuckled at the reminder of his daughter, who would probably always call the therapist Dr. Hannibal. Once she decided on a name for someone, it stuck. “Is there anything I can do to help you? I feel a bit like a lazy bump watching you do everything.”

            “I am quite all right.” Hannibal tossed an amused look over his shoulder. “But if you would like something to do, you could wash and slice tomatoes for our salad. I’m keeping everything simple tonight, as it seems fitting.”

            Will brought his beer with him as he crossed behind the counter and washed his hands in the sink before taking the bowl of perfectly ripened tomatoes Hannibal handed him. He was soon positioned in front of his own cutting board and trying to ignore the crisp, almost spicy scent of Hannibal’s cologne. It mixed with the savory smells of the cooking meal and made his mouth water.

            As they continued more idle conversation, talking about film genres this time, Will wondered where in the hell this attraction was coming from. And yes, he recognized it as attraction. The psychologist was very fit and striking, his features coming together in a unique and handsome fashion. Will hadn’t allowed himself to get close enough to make a connection with someone on a sexual level since Lexie, and if he was honest, he had rarely made that connection before her either. He recognized it for what it was and it was a bit unsettling.

            “Shall we?” Hannibal held their plates and gestured for Will to take the glasses and follow him into the dining room. Will watched as he lit the candles and then disappeared back into the kitchen. When he returned, he had taken off the apron and was carrying the bottle of wine and the large, unmarked bottle of homebrew for Will.

            As they ate, they skirted different topics and generally enjoyed each other’s company. By the time the meal was over, Will was lulled into a sense of contentment he had never thought he’d feel outside of his life with Mina. When it was time to leave to go fetch his daughter and go home, there was almost a touch of regret.

 

*~*~*

 

            “Mr. Graham, this is Karen Oakley from the daycare, are you in a position to come to-“ Will didn’t let the woman on the other end of the line finish before he snapped the phone shut and addressed the classroom full of students.

            “Class dismissed.” It was short and to the point, and he was gone without packing up his belongings. He’d known that taking Mina to the daycare had been a bad idea. He hadn’t had time to ease her into it the way he felt he should have. They had just gotten back into their normal routine. By taking a day off and spending it outside playing with Winston, fishing, and walking the woods around their home, he had succeeded in getting them both back into balance. Now this. With starting anything new it took time and with Jack on his ass about the Minnesota Shrike, time was something seriously lacking. On his way down the corridors, he saw Hannibal step out into the hallway but didn’t slow down.

            “Is there something wrong?” The psychiatrist fell in step with Will’s fast pace, managing to look mildly concerned.

            “Mina’s first and last day in daycare,” Will told him abruptly, already feeling the tight knot of anxiety in his gut. He hadn’t let the childcare worker get to the reason she was calling and now he was regretting his impatience. He’d known it was going to go south, but hadn’t really felt like he had much of an option. He had figured that at least the academy daycare was run by screened professionals and the chances of someone harming Mina were a lot slimmer than going with a private babysitter that he hadn’t been able to extensively interview himself. “I never should have taken her there.”

            Hannibal wisely didn’t say anything, he just followed along with Will’s quick steps down the maze of hallways toward the daycare center. Rounding the final curve in their journey, the loud, piercing screams hit his sensitive ears. Will broke out in a run, rushing through the door. Stepping into the chaos of the large play area, the therapist was just in time to watch the red-faced little girl break free of the woman that had been trying in vain to calm her and run straight for her father.

            Arms and legs wrapping around Will’s torso, she buried her face in his neck and howled with distress. Will stood from his crouch and immediately left the room, barely glancing at anything else as he swiftly carried Mina outside. “It’s okay, baby.” Hannibal turned on his heel and followed, giving the obviously flummoxed woman a cursory glance. There had been no other children present. They must have been taken outside as to not upset the situation further.

            Will walked purposefully toward the nearest exit, stepping out into the cooler air of the early autumn afternoon. He cradled the sobbing girl tight, whispering soothing words against her sweat-soaked temple. Hannibal stood nearby, just watching. Any help he offered right now wouldn’t be welcome and he knew it. The foreign feeling of wanting to be there to hold and soothe pitched through him in a wave of longing so sharp he closed his eyes against it. In his mind’s eye, he stepped forward and closed his arms around them both, pressing his chest to Mina’s back in a solid, protective line while his hands spanned Will’s trembling spine. He allowed it to pass through him and then mentally shook it off to examine at a later time. Those actions would not be welcomed by father or child, at least not at this moment.

            “D-d-daddy,” Mina’s voice was hoarse from screaming and she fought to speak against the hiccupping sobs that still shook her. “D-daddy, I-I-I wa-want to go h-home.”

            “We will baby,” Will told her, but didn’t move. He rocked her from side to side, standing in the sunlight so they wouldn’t get too chilled. Hannibal was taken in by the glint of gold in the brown curls that crowned their heads like halos. Eventually her breathing calmed and she pulled back to look at her father. Her cheeks were still bright red and wet from crying and her lips were swollen and trembling. She was exhausted but much calmer.

            “I d-don’t want to g-go back there.”

            “We’ll figure something else out, Mina-mine. I have to go back to my classroom to get my things. Are you okay with that?”

            She nodded and rested her head back on his shoulder. Will turned and blinked when he saw the older man was still there. He’d forgotten about the doctor completely, all of his focus having been on Mina. He offered a tired half-smile and Hannibal returned it solemnly. “You didn’t have to hang around, Dr. Lecter.”

            “I know,” Hannibal responded to the quiet words, keeping his own tone gentle. “I came to ask if you and Mina would like to come for dinner tonight. The invitation still stands, though there is no obligation.”

            “Dr. Hannibal?” Mina’s voice was a sleepy mumble, but she was so worn out by her fit that she didn’t bother to lift her head. “Daddy?”

            “Yeah, baby?” Will stroked her back and turned to walk back into the building.

            “I like Dr. Hannibal. Can we keep him?” The little girl’s words went through both men like a bolt of awareness and they locked eyes for a split second before Will’s darted away nervously. His steps faltered for just a moment before they continued.

            “You’ll have to ask him. Do you want to go to his house for dinner tonight?” He was a little too aware of the tawny-eyed man’s presence beside him as they traversed back into the hallways of the academy. Classes were still in session so they were thankfully rather alone in the echoing thoroughfare. A few people here or there passed them, smiling a little at the sight of the girl being carried so sweetly by her dad.

            Mina nodded her head against his shoulder and Will glanced over with another wry smile. “My Lady Mina accepts your invitation. And thank you.”

            Hannibal nodded, “It is my pleasure. If you are leaving here soon, you may as well follow me to my home. It is a bit early, but you may keep me company while I cook if you like. I have plenty of space for Mina to rest.”

            “That sounds rather… nice,” Will said after a moment. And it did sound nice. For the second time in as many days, he wasn’t looking forward to the long drive out to Wolf Trap and the quiet solitude of his home. Mina would be to bed early and he would be left alone with idle and not so idle thoughts that weren’t all that friendly at the moment. He grasped the opportunity for conversation and distraction while it was being offered. “Thank you, again.”

            The moment he stepped into his classroom, he saw the mess that he’d left scattered across his desk and podium when he’d gotten the call from the daycare. This was going to be hard to manage while still holding Mina. She was drifting in and out and he didn’t want to risk waking her all the way up by laying her down. She was going to be clingy and easily upset so soon after an episode.

            “I can hold her for you if you’d like.” He had no idea what made him offer, but once the words were out of his mouth, Hannibal realized this was a test of sorts. Would Will trust him enough to allow him to carry his precious burden? Would Mina wake and be upset at the change.

            “Mina,” Will murmured, lowering his head close to her tiny ear.

            She hummed in response, rubbing her face into his shirt. “Mina, Dr. Hannibal is going to hold you while I get my things. Is that okay?”

            Her brow creased for half a second, but she didn’t open her eyes. She nodded with a little sigh and pushed back away from his chest, blindly reaching for Hannibal. The profiler looked surprised and a little pleased as he stepped closer so the other man could take her.

            She settled into the strange chest and arms of someone not her daddy with a deep, hitching breath and promptly buried her warm face in the crook of Hannibal’s neck. Will stared for a moment, then seemed to shake himself and turned to the task of tidying and gathering. “She doesn’t allow many people to touch her.”

            The scent of strawberry shampoo, hypo-allergenic children’s soap, tears, and a trace of Will’s cologne teased his sensitive nose. All together it was a pleasant mix that made Hannibal want to press his cheek to Mina’s. “I’m honored that you both trust me enough to allow this.”

            “You’re one of three people that have actually held her,” Will told him. “She doesn’t like Alana.”

            That surprised him. One would think that the soft, sweet-smelling and sweeter-tempered Dr. Bloom would have endeared herself to the child almost immediately. “Has she expressed why?”

            Will laughed a little, stowing his laptop into the leather case along with a stack of papers to be graded. He glanced back at the doctor with amusement. “She’s a little too much like her old man. Mina’s…” The amusement faded and he looked momentarily devastated. “Mina’s very sensitive to the people around her and she knows when someone is genuine and when they’re not. Alana means well, but her interest isn’t always because she wants to be friends. There’s a lot of pity and worry in the way she sees me. There’s a big part of her that will never be able to shut off the scholarly interest. I’m the wonder child of functioning psychosis.”

            “Mina has the beginnings of the same empathy disorder.”

           Will nodded and grabbed his coat from the back of the chair. He gestured for the door and followed him back out. “I’m doing my best to make sure she has all the support that I never had so it won’t scar her as bad. She’s the only thing in this world that matters to me and I’d do anything to keep her safe.” That was a given, Hannibal thought. Most fathers would say the same thing and mean it. With Will, however, it had potential to go into much deeper, much darker places. As he bent down to place the child in her car seat, she jolted and clung a little tighter with an alarmed whimper.

            “It’s all right, Mina,” he soothed, straightening back up. He stroked a hand down her back, knowing that Will was watching him closely and waiting to see if he needed to step in. “I have you.”

            “Dr. Hannibal?” She was groggy and lifted her face to look at him with half-lidded, blood-shot eyes. She was so exhausted that it was hard for her to focus on him.

            “Your daddy is right here too, Mina. I was going to put you in your seat so you can come to my home for dinner. Would you like that?”

            “Do you have pancakes?” He softened at the half-aware question, pleased at her smooth acceptance of him.

            “I could make you a pancake if you would like.”

            “I like pancakes. Do you have any puppies?”

            “No,” he answered and her eyes started to close again.

            “It’s okay. You can play with Winston if you get lonely,” she offered and then slowly inched forward to rest her head on his shoulder again.

            “You need to get in your seat if we’re going to Dr. Hannibal’s house, Mina-mine,” Will said and stroked her hair.

            “Okay.” This time she didn’t fight when she was settled into the car seat and Will took over buckling her in. She was already asleep again, her head leaned back and her mouth falling open just a little. After exchanging a few more words, the men climbed into their respective vehicles and started the short drive to Hannibal’s Baltimore residence.

 

 


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> :D And now we get to the part where I earn the 'mature' rating. Thanks so much again for reading this, guys! It makes it worth writing, I tell you.

 

*~*~*

 

            Gunshots rang in the confined area, the first one painfully loud as it tore through Garrett Jacob Hobbs. The next four were muffled as shock and reaction dulled Will’s senses and he watched as if from somewhere outside his own consciousness as the other man jerked with each bullet. Blood coated his face and his hands and the knees of his jeans as he hit the floor next to Hobbs’s daughter, wildly trembling hands inadequately covering the deep and long slice that had gone through her jugular vein. Her wide blue eyes were glazed and confused as she choked on her own blood, searching for her father, then grasping urgently at Will’s forearms.

_“See? See?”_ Will jerked at the words uttered by the dead man and kept trying to staunch the blood spurting out of the neck wound on the golden ticket. He felt nausea pool at the base of his stomach and his vision swam. _It wasn’t working._ He didn’t have the right grip, she was bleeding out right in front of him because he didn’t know how to fucking cover the wound right. All of his training was for nothing. He was losing it. She was going to die because of him, because he rushed in when he should have been quieter. If he would have gotten there sooner, if he would have figured it out days ago. If he would have…

            Hannibal was suddenly there, brushing his ill-fated attempt to the side. Large, steady surgeon’s hands covered the laceration and pressed. Will locked eyes with him through blood coated lenses and shuddered with reaction. “Call for help.” Hannibal’s clipped tones brought him out of it and he stood unsteadily, dialing the emergency number to call it in. His voice was barely restrained as he told the dispatcher the situation and location. When he was finished, his phone dropped from nerveless fingers and lay in a pool of blood, forgotten.

            “Will,” Hannibal said firmly. “William, look at me.”

            Blue eyes dark with shock and something else jolted to the honey brown of the doctor’s. “I need you to slow your breath. You’re hyperventilating and if you don’t regulate your breathing, you will pass out.”

            Closing his eyes, he concentrated on his breathing, in and out. But every time he inhaled, he brought with it the meaty smell of blood and death mixed with the breakfast burning on the stove. They’d been making pancakes. Tears burned in his throat and he thought he was going to vomit. _Oh, God._

            His hearing came back to normal just in time to hear Abigail Hobbs start to seize, her eyes rolling back as she lost her hold on consciousness. “H-Hannibal?” The former surgeon stared down at the girl’s face as it went slack. It hadn’t been an easy death. It had been painful and filled with the betrayal of someone who had loved her. He had allowed her death. In a way, he had caused it. He felt nothing at her passing. Pulling his hand back from her still gushing neck, he stared down at her as if he were in shock. He allowed a tremble to start in his hands, brought a horror to his eyes. The human suit was firmly in place even as the monster was aching to pull his bloodied fingers to his mouth and suckle the crimson.

            “No!” The raw exhalation exploded from his companion and he caught Will just as he flung himself toward the girl. “No! There has to be something else we can do! Hannibal!” He closed his eyes and held onto his friend, wrapping arms and legs around the suddenly frantic federal agent as he tried in vain to go to the dead girl. The sirens were wailing in the distance and Hannibal drug them both out of the kitchen and into the fresh air of the front yard, Will fighting him every step of the way.

            “Listen to me,” he snapped suddenly, gripping Will’s shoulders in a bruising grip. Sharp and carrying enough contrived anger and pain to get through the hysteria, he nearly shouted, “Listen! She is gone, Will! There is nothing else we can do. We got there too late.” As he allowed his voice to crack, he saw the moment Will stepped out of own momentary snap in sanity to really focus on the man in front of him. The wild blue orbs he had so easily fallen into looked at him, and as his lower lip started trembling, Hannibal was nearly overtaken by the urge to run his tongue along the curve, to taste the lingering blood that coated them.

            He was leaning in when the ambulance screamed into the driveway, lights flashing as the EMTs bailed out to bark questions even as they were moving to the motionless Mrs. Hobbs on the front steps. “They’re all dead,” Will told them in a near monotone, tearing his eyes away from Hannibal to address the medics.

*~*~*

            “Come home with me.” Hannibal’s words were gentle but firm as he guided Will to the car after Jack had released them to leave the scene. Although it was Will that had driven them to the Hobbs residence, he slid into the driver’s seat and adjusted it to his slightly longer legs. The late model car wasn’t even close to the high performance luxury vehicles he was used to, but it was easy enough to drive the automatic.

            “I need to pick up Mina,” Will said automatically, staring out the window at the passing scenery.

            “Virginia is aware of the situation and she has agreed to keep Mina overnight.” Will looked at him finally, frowning at the decision being taken out of his hands. He didn’t want to leave Mina overnight with anyone but Annie. The woman Hannibal had recommended was a wonderful babysitter and his daughter really liked her, but Will didn’t trust easy and he didn’t want just anyone taking care of her if she had a nightmare. He had gone over what to do with Annie. She knew how to handle it without making it worse. But Annie was out of town at a training seminar for her new job and she wasn’t available. Mina hadn’t been in the care of the new babysitter for more than a week and a half, not nearly long enough for an overnight stay. This was supposed to be a day trip only. Do some interviews, look into some dark corners, then go home.

            “I don’t like this,” Will said sharply. “I-“

            “Virginia is aware of Mina’s night terrors,” Hannibal informed him gently, cutting off the argument neatly. “I made sure of it before making arrangements. I trust her, Will, and you are not in a state to go to your daughter right now. You need to decompress and shower.”

            “Hannibal.” In the nearly two months since he had met Will, he had firmly ingrained himself into the empath’s orbit, becoming more than a therapist and more than a friend. The energies had changed between them. More and more Hannibal had noticed Will returning his affection. It was in the way he didn’t avoid eye contact as solidly as he had before, and in the way he allowed for casual touching. The ever present forts were lessened with him and Hannibal had quickly learned what buttons to push to trigger the desired result. He used one of them now.

            “Will, I,” he hesitated purposefully, filling his words with a fragility that he didn’t truly feel. “I would rather not be alone right at this moment.”

            He felt more than saw the anger deflate out of his companion’s tense posture. “I need to call Virginia and talk to her myself. I at least want to talk to Mina, to hear her voice. But I can do that from your place.”

*~*~*

            The water was just this side of bearable, the heat of it reddened his skin and it was still not enough. Eyes closed, face turned into the spray, Will tried to let it wash away the screams and the betrayed horror on Abigail Hobbs’s pretty face along with the traces of her blood that had dried to a tacky mess on his skin. He wanted to burn the clothes he’d discarded on the pristine floor of the guest bathroom he’d been guided to. Since he wasn’t at home and he didn’t want to carry them with him back to the empty fields surrounding his property, he’d have to settle for throwing them out.

            He turned around to let the water beat down on his shoulders and ducked his head back to wet his hair. When he opened his eyes, all he could see was red. It dripped off of everything, pouring out of the shower head with the same force as the water. The taste of old pennies filled his mouth and all he could smell was the horrible thickness of a slaughterhouse. Gagging, he forced himself still, recognizing the old pull of a hallucination. No. This wasn’t the time. This wasn’t the place. _This wasn’t the time._ _This wasn’t the place_.

            Abbigail Hobbs, pretty, coveted daughter of a psychopath. Making pancakes, eggs, and sausages with her father on a rare Friday morning when both parents were home and she didn’t have to be at school. Dad was between jobs and her mother had taken a vacation day. They were going to be going to the cabin for a fun camping trip. Just the three of them. She turned around to see her father with a knife to her mother’s throat.

            _No!_ “No!” His own shout startled him and he realized he was on his knees in the shower, the water was back to normal and there was a concerned knock on the bathroom door.

            “Will? Will, are you all right?”

            Shaken, he pulled himself back to his feet and swallowed hard before answering, “I- I’m fine.”

            “Do you need any assistance?” Embarrassment made him groan softly and rest his head against the cool tiles.

            “I’m okay, thank you. I’ll be out in a few minutes.”

            “I will be nearby if you need me.”

            After another moment, he shakily reached for the shampoo. Ten minutes later, he realized that he didn’t have a change of clothes with him and he’d rather wrap himself in blackberry briars than put on his bloodied clothing. He dried off as best as he could and wrapped the large white towel around his hips before leaving the bathroom to seek out his host.

            He found Hannibal in the kitchen, fresh from his own shower and preparing what looked like a simple soup and grilled sandwich dinner. “You wouldn’t happen to have some clothes I could borrow for a night, would you? I… I can’t wear my other ones.” Hannibal turned to look at him and froze, eyes roaming down the length of his body. Suddenly feeling exposed and awkward, he fidgeted with the towel where it was tucked at his hip. The darkened gaze followed the movement and Will shifted in place. “Hannibal?”

            The doctor slowly blinked and raised his gaze to Will’s and smiled slowly. “I am sorry for staring. Without all the layers of flannel and cotton, I nearly didn’t recognize you.”

            Some of the tension eased at the teasing lilt to Hannibal’s accented tones. Will found a pale imitation of a smile in response and shrugged, “Not many reasons to remove the layers.” The deeper meaning to his words hung heavy in the air between them before Hannibal seemed to remember his manners.

            “I have some pajamas that you may borrow for tonight and a set of clothing for the morning.” He shut off the gas to the burner heating the soup. “If you would follow me, I’ll fetch them for you.”

            “Thank you.”

*~*~*

            As Will followed him back upstairs, Hannibal was achingly aware of how vulnerable his pseudo patient was without the cloth armor that usually swathed his lean form. He had seen Will without a shirt before, but the sight was still impressive. His broad chest and shoulders weren’t overdone, but much more sculpted than what was first obvious. His legs were long and shapely, runner’s legs. For the first time in so very long, Dr. Hannibal Lecter was having a hard time keeping his hands to himself. There were scars, a little more than what could be deemed normal, but not excessive.

            He wanted to touch, to run his hands over the too-pale skin, to watch it redden with desire. He wanted to mark Will, to rend that perfect flesh and taste what was underneath, to add his own brand of scars to the mix so that he would never forget that Hannibal had possessed him. He wanted to squeeze bruises into the beautiful curve of his narrow hips. He wanted to breathe in the moans as they left lips torn and swollen from violent kisses, to swallow the sound of his own name as he drove the other man toward completion.

            His hand was a little unsteady as he opened the door to the master suite and tried to remind himself that this wasn’t the time.

            Will padded in just behind him on bare feet and in the cool confines of his most private space, Hannibal inhaled the intoxicating scent of expensive soap- an imported sandalwood, ebony, and cedar that he had chosen weeks ago to compliment the natural scent of the very man standing next to him. He had been so very right and he almost wished he had been wrong. He made a mental note to gift a box set of the soap to send home with Will. His mouth was dry at the thought of the younger male running the suds across his pale, toned skin.

            “I like what you’ve done with the place,” Will said and Hannibal could hear the forced levity in his tone and appreciated the attempt at normalcy. He looked back and regretted the timing. Will was standing with his back to him, looking over the artwork displayed over the elaborate mahogany headboard he’d found at an auction house years before. A few drops of water ran down the line of shoulder from his hairline and he shivered as it crossed his spine. One hand was resting on the sturdy post at the foot of the bed and the doctor couldn’t stop his feet from moving the few steps that brought him up close behind.

            “This is my sanctuary,” he confessed, and pressed a hand on the overheated flesh of Will’s side. To his credit, he didn’t flinch away or do much more than inhale sharply. There was a change in his scent and Hannibal smirked and brought his face in closer to the curve where shoulder met neck. He could almost see the tick of his accelerated heartbeat against the pulse point, could almost taste it.

            “Hannibal?” The sound of his name spoken so quietly held so many notes of emotion. There was a level of awkward confusion, as if he wasn’t quite sure what to make of the attention. But the layers of desire and want overlaid that confusion and Hannibal swallowed hard at what _wasn’t_ in the mix. Will trusted him. There was no fear in the words that followed either. “I’m sorry if this is a bit forward or if it puts you in a weird spot, but what is going on here between us?”

            “I hadn’t wanted to push you.” And wasn’t this the night for honesty? Hannibal finally quit resisting his own urges and placed his lips on Will’s pulse point briefly, and murmured. “But I am finding myself a little less than steady at the moment.” He nearly moaned at the sudden press of a warm back against his chest as the beautiful man leaned into him.

            “I have been harboring less than professional feelings for you for a while now,” he confessed, running his hand along Will’s side and around to graze his belly. Lips moved up to the unshaven jawline and despite the fact that he had never been overly fond of facial hair before now, he found a certain allure to the sharp rasp of it against his mouth. He was a creature of textures, and his young friend was filled with them.

            “Who am I to argue,” Will whispered and turned in his embrace to face the onslaught directly. The first meeting of lips sent a spiral of pure lust through both the men and he could feel his companion shiver in reaction right before strong and surprisingly steady fingers pulled his shirt out from its neat tuck and started on the buttons. Deepening the kiss, one hand gripping wet curls while the other teased the edges of the bath towel, Hannibal knew that this was moving much faster than he had anticipated. He wasn’t sure if this was where he wanted things to go this soon. It was too late now and he wouldn’t stop this progression for anything. The uncertainty leant a large dose of realism to his actions he hadn’t experienced since he had been very, very young.

            The emotions raging through him as he allowed Will Graham to tug and pull and remove his own cloth armor were almost frightening in their clear veracity. All deeper thought ceased when he released the towel covering the lower half of his soon to be lover and he felt the tug of his slacks being undone. After that it was nothing but skin and bone, taste and discovery. Heat and pleasure and pain all mixed together in a myriad of color and sound that left him breathless and without any shred of dignity or consciousness of its loss.

            Hips snapping at a hard and fast pace, he stared down at the perfectly marred stretch of back connected to the hipbones he was gripping so tight he knew he was bruising, and changed the angle abruptly to hit the sweet spot that made Will howl and buck back into him with a force that nearly pushed them back on the mattress. “Fuck! Oh, fuck, please,” the words rushed out desperately and Hannibal felt inner walls contract around him. “Oh, fuck.”

            The curses falling from red and swollen lips nearly sent him over the edge and he suddenly slid his arms under the heaving chest of his lover, pulling him up to press their bodies together in a tight, sweaty line. Fisting Will’s erection, he stroked in time with his increasingly erratic thrusts. It was nearing time and Hannibal wanted Will to go over first. Breathing in the pheromone heavy skin, he sucked flesh into his mouth hard and laved it with his tongue before biting down sharp enough to draw blood.

            The added stimulation of sharper pain drove Will into climax, his entire body going rigid as Hannibal’s hand was coated in the hot stream of his release. The spicy sweet taste of blood around his teeth and tongue mixed with the unconscious shudders of his partner caused him to find his own ecstasy.

            As they collapsed back into the tangled bedding, they both fought to regain their senses, tingling with aftermath and complete system overload. Hannibal pulled Will against him despite the nearly overwhelming heat, pressing his face into sweat-damp curls as he tried to control his breathing. Saying nothing, trembling arms going over heaving chest, Will allowed himself the pleasure of prolonged physical contact.

            “I don’t let people in this close,” he admitted after a few minutes, turning his face into the curve of Hannibal’s shoulder to nuzzle the cooling skin. “I’m actually rather phobic about it. I don’t willingly make connections with humans, doctor. They go too deep, too quickly and I end up getting hurt. Or seriously freaking someone out with my attachment issues, which always ends badly.”

            He was sleepy, unguarded, and rambling and Hannibal rolled to pull him half under him. “Will, I am not like anyone else. You have nothing to fear from me. I will not turn from you.”

            The laugh that escaped was exhausted, held only the slightest hint of amusement and was nearly overwhelmed by a mix of self-loathing and bitterness. “Just wait until I wake you up in the middle of the night with my own version of hell. Mina’s not the only one that gets night terrors, Hannibal. She’s too much like me.”

            “You’ll see,” Hannibal whispered, threading fingers through his hair. The touch was soothing and lulled Will into a doze that quickly deepened to an easy sleep. The doctor soon followed, slipping into his own dreams.

*~*~*~

            He couldn’t see anything, couldn’t feel anything, couldn’t _do_ anything. The air around him was heavy and hot, thick with humidity and the scent of rotted meat. In the distance, he could hear a child’s cry and a spark of panic ignited when he easily recognized it. Mina. He tried to move, to go forward but it felt like there was something wrapped around his body, keeping him in a soft stasis. The harder he fought, the less he could move.

            He screamed in frustration, a roar of sound that echoed in the blackness and came back to mock him. “Mina!” He shouted when her screams sharpened and went higher, more wild and uncontrolled. She was hurt. As a father he had quickly learned the difference in her cries. He knew when she was hungry, tired, frightened, or just cranky. He knew when she was hurt. A rage overtook him at the sound, a helpless surge that shattered something deep inside.

            He could suddenly move and he bolted into the darkness, stumbling and nearly falling at the abrupt freedom. Mina’s voice surrounded him as she called desperately for him and it seemed like he blinked and he was back in the Hobbs’ kitchen, his hands on Abigail’s throat. He blinked again and it was Mina lying under him, her fragile body broken and bleeding, her eyes blank as they stared up at him.

            He woke pinned underneath Hannibal, both his hands held between their chests as he struggled to break free. “Will! Come back to me, you’re dreaming. It was just a nightmare.”

            “Mina,” Will choked out and stopped fighting. The panic was still there but was overshadowed by the devastation of seeing his daughter in a pool of blood, bleeding out from a wound he couldn’t cover. “I have to-! Oh, God, Mina!”

            “Mina is fine,” Hannibal soothed and loosened his grip on Will’s hands. He transferred his arms to rest elbows down on the mattress around Will’s chest, his legs still straddling the narrow, naked waist beneath him. “She is safe. You are safe.”

            Tears glistened and his chest shuddered with sobs at the remembered terror and grief. Shaking arms wrapped around Hannibal, drawing him even closer. The older man lowered himself down to nearly cover him with his broader body. “Everything is all right.” Hot tears flowed and mingled between them and he could feel Will’s heart racing under him. It shouldn’t have been so tantalizing, yet it was. His own blood pumped faster at the depth of emotion that exuded from the father that trembled under him.

            Will felt everything so intensely and so clearly that he never let anyone in so deep out of fear that he would lose himself in the maelstrom of other. Through his years, Hannibal had been forced to not feel emotions in any true depth. He could shut them off and do what he felt he needed. Traumatic beginnings had shattered and re-shaped who he was and he never regretted what he had become. He was a monster in human clothing; a predator of the highest caliber. Resting his face against his companion’s tear soaked cheek, he inhaled the sheer beauty of the moment and soaked in the life and the possibilities.

            Will had the makings of another predator, another shattered being that could share his blood-soaked world. Together they could watch the world slowly burn around them.

*~*~*


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow, guys I apologize for the long wait between chapters. I've had a lot of serious life events happen in the last couple months and my head just wasn't into my writing. My mom passed away in April and I had a huge move going on all at the same time. But I'm all settled in now and it seems like the muses are starting to talk to me again. *crosses fingers* Anyway, I hope that you guys continue liking this and I don't screw it up too badly going forward. Small update, but it's a new chapter. :D Cheers!  
> And another quick note (warning ;) ), there's sexing in the beginning, and some dialogue right out of an episode in the second half.

*~*~*

            “Hi, Virginia,” Will spoke into the phone softly, trying to keep the anxiety out of his voice as he talked to the older woman that had taken over for Annie as Mina’s babysitter. It had taken some soothing, but Hannibal had convinced him that it was too early to call at three in the morning, so he had waited until the sun had peeked over the horizon. It was still early but he hadn’t been able to wait. “Sorry to call so early. Is Mina awake?” He knew the answer already. Mina was an early riser, one of the very few traits she hadn’t inherited from him.

            “Daddy! Virginia has a kitty!” Something tight and painful eased the moment he heard his daughter’s excited voice come over the line. Slumping into a patio chair on Hannibal’s back deck, he pressed a hand over his eyes. “His name is Yellow Britches. Isn’t that neat, Daddy?”

            “That is neat, Mina-mine,” he forced himself to answer her and hoped that he didn’t sound strange. “Does he have yellow fur?”

            “It’s kinda yellow-orange. I like him. Can we get a kitty?”

            “I don’t know if Winston will be okay with a kitty,” he answered automatically, already knowing that they’d be looking at the shelters for a cat that was all right with dogs. They had the outside space and cats were rather independent. “We can look though.”

            “Winston’s a good dog, Daddy. He won’t eat it.”

            “We’ll see what we can do, how’s that?”

            “Okay. When are you coming to get me?” He smiled at the abrupt change in topic. Even at four, Mina didn’t waste words.

            “Are you okay spending a little more time with Virginia?” It killed him to not immediately go pick her up, but he had to go back into Quantico to go through the paperwork and interview hell of the Hobbs aftermath.

            “I guess.” She sounded unsure, but was okay. “I miss you.”

            “I’ll be there tonight to pick you up. I love you, Mina.”

            “Love you too. Virginia wants to talk to you.” The phone was handed over to the babysitter and he talked through a little more of the details of when he was going to be there to pick up his daughter. Once he had finished the call, he dropped the borrowed phone on the metal table and leaned forward to rest his forehead on his knees. She was all right.

            He felt a hand on his shoulder and one touched the top of his head. Raising up, he looked at Hannibal, who was standing next to his chair, dressed in silk pajamas and matching robe. “Come along inside, Will. It’s cold out here.”

            Will nodded after a moment and allowed himself to be pulled to his feet. For a minute they just stood there in the early sunshine, then moved back inside. The moment the French doors closed behind him, he was pulled into a long and slow kiss that warmed him from the inside out. It seemed like once they had pushed past the boundary that kept them from this intimacy, it was hard to stop. Now that he was sure his little girl was safe, he allowed himself to sink into the newness of whatever it was he had started with Hannibal.

            Backside pressed against the countertop, Will tugged at the robe the other man had pulled on over his pajamas. He was sore and bruised from their activities the night before, but he craved more of it. He had been without this kind of closeness for too long. Keeping others at a distance had been a doubled edged sword that hurt him as much as it protected him.

            In a move that showed a rather impressive strength, the therapist gripped the back of Will’s thighs and lifted him to perch on the edge of the counter. Holding shoulders tight with need and barely restrained urgency, he met Hannibal’s kiss with a desperation that should have shamed him. Should have, but didn’t. As his friend’s mouth traveled down the hard muscles of his neck, sucking the flesh in hard enough to bruise, Will realized that Hannibal was just as affected and shaky as he was. A tongue swiped over a nipple, then there was a sharp nip that made him go from half-mast to rock hard in seconds. He’d never realized how much these little pains intensified his arousal.

            With Lexie it had been wild, yes, but there hadn’t been this rough edge. There hadn’t been this blunt and out of control storm front that made him cry out in want. Hannibal wasn’t gentle, and he didn’t receive gentle in return. They were brutal in their coupling, with Will taking the brunt of it. He reveled in the near violence of it, raking his nails down the planes of Hannibal’s shoulders and back as a hungry mouth latched onto his again.

            There was a low growling, and Will was jerked closer, his legs going around Hannibal’s waist as he was being lifted again. Then they were on the floor, the cold tile feeling startlingly good against the hot skin of his back. Mouth still on his, hands pushed at his shoulders, pinning him down effortlessly. There was an instant urge to push up, to fight the hold, to defy and to assert. But it was gone the moment their erections ground together between layers of fabric that had yet to be removed.

            Strong hands cupped the globes of his butt and lifted while hips ground in a little harder. Will threw his head back, cracking it on the tiled floor. He groaned and cupped Hannibal’s face, kissing him fiercely before nipping his lower lip. He was pushed back again, and that talented mouth was on his jawline, moving down the curve of his neck then across his chest. The borrowed pajama pants were jerked down and off, then lips were wrapped around his erection. He made a strangled sound and buried his hands in short, soft hair as his cock was swallowed down to the base.

            At nearly the same time, fingers found the cleft of his ass and there was a burn of un-lubed penetration. His breath sucked in and his pelvis jerked in reaction, the sensations a little too much. Hannibal pulled back and reached for his discarded robe, fishing in the pocket for a small bottle he had carried from upstairs. The cool liquid soothed the burn and Will was soon grinding down into the fingers prepping him.

            Hannibal watched the man under him as he systematically brought him to a complete loss of control. It was the single most erotic thing he had ever seen. His teeth drew blood on an exposed hipbone and his lover whimpered and grasped tighter at his hair; not to pull him away, but to pull him closer. He should have known that pain and pleasure would ride side by side with the inherent intensity that made up Will’s persona. His entire being was so busy, so filled with _other_ that this was a sure way to drown out everything else. He had built up some knowledge the night before, keeping one part of his consciousness on how his lover reacted to different stimuli. Now, he was building on it, pushing it just a little farther.

            “Hannibal, please,” Will’s voice cracked as his torso arched off the floor and into him. “Please, I need you.”

            “Where do you need me, Will?” Hannibal barely recognized his own voice, it was so hoarse and thick with need. He had craved this as much as his lover. His previous partners had never been this responsive, this free in accepting this part of him; this generous in giving back without trying to overtake. He met his match in Will, and that startling thought made his blood boil with want. “Tell me.”

            “Christ,” Will whimpered as Hannibal twisted his fingers and brushed that tiny bundle of nerves, hard enough to make him see stars. _“Christ!_ I want you inside, I want you _inside_ me, Hannibal.”

            It was enough. He pulled his fingers free and jerked the solid and shaking form further under him, pulling knees and thighs up and apart as he lined himself up with Will’s grasping entrance. In a direct contrast of the hard and brutal fingers that had opened him up, this thickness eased in with almost agonizing slowness. Head back, eyes closed, and throat exposed, Will was so achingly beautiful like this. Hannibal saw him swallow dryly, his own eyes barely open as he watched the mix of intense pleasure/pain that made that perfect bow of a mouth open to bring in a gasp of air.

            When he was completely sheathed inside the hot, tight velvet, he just rested there for a moment, savoring the unconscious clenching and unclenching of abused muscles. Will’s voice was breathy and shaky as he whispered against his partner’s temple, “Hannibal, move, please. Please, I need you to _move._ ”

            He moved. Slowly at first, pulling out almost all the way before sliding back in, then back out. Hands clawed again at his lower back and he hissed at the sensual sting. _This_ , this was what he’d been wanting. This is what he’d been lacking. The words and cries falling from Will’s lips were both a balm and an accelerant, twisting him up and soothing him out all at the same time. As they raced for completion, Hannibal felt truly alive outside of when he was stalking and killing his prey. It was a dangerous, addictive feeling and he reveled in it.

            Holding the younger man tightly against him as their bodies cooled and the sweat dried in a sticky mess between them, Hannibal pressed his lips to the side of Will’s head and inhaled the earthy scent that only belonged to him.

*~*~*

            “This is how I caught Garret Jacob Hobbs.” Will stood in front of the classroom of FBI recruits, the seats filled to capacity with fresh minds ready to soak up everything he had to say. He felt off balance and not quite ready to face anyone, let alone delve into the very thing that was still seeping into his mind and making it difficult to see anything beyond that blood soaked kitchen. He took a breath and glanced up at the screen and the document that had caught his attention and pushed him toward the Hobbs home and the Minnesota Shrike. He thought of Hannibal and their plans to meet in Wolf Trap to spend the weekend with Mina and Winston. He was planning to teach the older man how to fish.

            “It’s his resignation letter. Does anyone see the clue?” It was easier to turn and face the hands tentatively rising into the air behind him with the image of the immaculately dressed doctor in jeans and wader boots chasing away the bad taste his lecture was leaving in his mouth. He waited a few beats, then said, “There isn’t one. He wrote a letter, left a phone number, no address. That’s it.”

            He clicked to the next slide and carefully didn’t look back. He knew the crime scene photo of Hobbs propped up against the kitchen counter with eight bullet holes in his torso well enough. He didn’t have to look at it anymore to scent the thick smell of blood, death, and burning pancakes. His fingers twitched and he unconsciously rubbed them together, feeling the sticky slide of Abigail’s blood staining them. He wanted to go wash his hands again. A picture of Hobbs and his daughter fell into the next frame. Happy and posing in front of the buck they had brought down. He swallowed past the thickness in his throat.

            “Garret Jacob Hobbs is dead. The question now is how to stop those his story is going to inspire.” Another slide, this one showing a girl impaled on a rack of antlers in a field in Minnesota. “A copycat.”

            When the last lecture of the day was over, he kept his head down and hands busy, doing his best to keep the ‘do not approach’ wall up. He didn’t want to engage, afraid of what might slip out of his mouth. It had been a long and horrible day, the highlight being a phone call to Hannibal over his lunch break where he’d allowed the smooth, accented tones of his lover soothe his ruffled feathers. A few well-spoken innuendos and promises for bad behavior once Mina was safely sleeping made the rest of his day go much easier. He couldn’t wait to leave the halls of the academy behind him and go pick up his daughter. He wanted to shower off the itchy tingling of remembered horror and move on to more pleasant things.

            He smelled her perfume before he saw her and Will felt his stomach tighten with something akin to dread. “Hi.” It wasn’t the most cordial of greetings, being that he didn’t even glance up to look at Dr. Alana Bloom when she came to stand next to the short table where he was single-mindedly organizing and stuffing his papers in his briefcase next to his laptop.

            “How are you, Will?” There was genuine concern in her soft voice and Will found himself biting back a sigh.

            He finally turned to look at her, the frames of his glasses purposely slipping down the bridge of his nose to block direct eye contact. He couldn’t help but be honest with her, “I have no idea.”

            “Well, I didn’t want you to be ambushed,” she said on a breath, looking down at the table with a guilty, almost charming sheepishness. His hackles rose and he turned back to zip and snap his briefcase closed with new urgency. So, this wasn’t a friend checking up on him. As usual, there was an underlying motive, even from her.

            “Is this an ambush?”

            “Ambush is later.” He saw Jack Crawford enter his classroom behind her and he felt the heat rise in his neck. “Immediately later. Soon to now. When Jack arrives, consider yourself ambushed.”

            “Here’s Jack,” Will said sharply and moved to put the table between them and him.

            “How was class,” Jack asked dryly with an unamused look in Alana’s direction.

            “They applauded, it was inappropriate.” Words clipped and to the point, Will felt his movements getting jerky. Nerves jangling, he picked up his jacket and fidgeted with his case, picking it up, then setting it back down as he debated the merits of just turning and walking around the pair. One was trying to be a buffer, and he appreciated it as much as he resented it. He wasn’t a child that needed to be coddled. The other was a walking, talking wall of barely reigned aggression. Confidence and overbearing self-righteousness screamed from the special agent in charge and it was making him feel like he was under siege. Fight or flight was starting to manifest and Will knew that he had to keep his cool and do neither.

            He turned slightly to the left and made himself breathe. Hands busy. Keep the hands busy and don't fidget. He reopened his briefcase and pretended to search for something just to stop from looking at the assured smugness of the other man’s face. Mina. He was going to be going to be home with his little girl for two days. They were going to be at the river for most of it. He tried desperately to think of the sound of softly rushing water and the light bell of her laughter. “Well, the review board would beg to differ. You’re up for a commendation.”

            Will froze when Jack continued. “And they’ve okayed active return to the field.”

            “The question is, do you want to go back to the field,” Alana asked, and Will looked back and forth between them.

            “I want him back in the field.” Jack turned to look at Alana, unimpressed and looming. He turned back to Will again, adding, “And I’ve told the board I’m recommending a psych eval.”

            Will’s blood felt like it was both ice and fire all at the same time and he felt a tingling in his ears that warned of an imminent explosion. His mouth opened, then closed, then opened again. Thankfully, his words got stuck in his throat and he finally shut his teeth again with an audible click. He closed his briefcase for a final time, slung his messenger bag over his head so that it rested across his shoulders, picked up his jacket and silently walked around the pair and out the door.

*~*~*

 


	6. Chapter 6

*~*~*            

            Will didn’t go to Virginia’s to pick up Mina right after he left his office. He went straight to Hannibal’s home where he knew he would find the doctor finishing up whatever he needed to be able to leave for the weekend. He texted when he was about halfway there, sitting at the side of the road when he realized that Hannibal might not appreciate a drop in visit without some sort of warning. Nerves jangled as he waited for a response, his eyes darted around the city street and the people walking past, not even giving him a cursory glance.

            Hannibal was prompt in sending his reply and Will was soon on his way again. The minute he was ushered into the front hallway, he blurted, “Jack wants me back in the field full time. The review board okayed it and they’re insisting on a psych eval. I told them it was this one case and I was done. I walked away from it for a reason. I can’t…”

            Will stopped when Hannibal slowed and turned to him when they reached his study. Wide, elegant hands cradled his face tenderly and he froze in place. Thumbs soothed his flushed cheeks and his eyes fluttered closed as the cool calm of his friend moved over him. Lips pressed against his in a gentle line and he felt the nervous tension seep away. Hannibal held him there until his shoulders relaxed and he raised his own hands to cover the ones on his face.

            “You are all right, Will,” Hannibal said softly, “We will go through this together, no matter your choice. I will stand by you.”

            “Jack already called you, didn’t he?” There was no accusation in his words, but he kept his eyes closed this close. Even with Hannibal, he didn’t want to see.

            “He called me after the fact.” The words were accompanied by another press of lips, this time to his forehead, before Hannibal released him to step back. “I was not, and am not impressed with Agent Crawford’s attempt at abusing his power.”

            Will sighed and slumped against the doorframe, running his fingers back through his hair. “I’m guessing that he tried to get you to talk me into it.”

            Hannibal reached out a hand and Will took it, allowing himself to be drawn deeper into the darkened study. Having already shut down all of his electronics and closed the drapes covering the floor to ceiling windows, the normally bright room was shrouded in shadows. “I will not ever betray your trust in such a way. I want what is best for you, and for little Mina. I have very few loyalties in this life, Will. Those that I do have I take very seriously.”

            The therapist sat on the velvet couch centered to the side of the spacious room and pulled Will close enough for him to straddle his lap. Settling knees into the soft fabric, Will allowed himself to take the comfort being offered. It was something he wasn’t used to, this easy acceptance of touching and being touched by another adult. There was a part of him that almost didn’t want to get accustomed to it, that wanted to at least try to keep his distance and save himself from the inevitable emptiness when it was gone.

            As if he knew what Will was thinking, Hannibal pulled him in even closer settling their hips intimately together and their chests nearly touching. In the dim light, he knew that Will would be more comfortable lingering face to face. Feeling the solid line of Hannibal’s arm slide up and across his back, he couldn’t help but relax with a deep but shaky exhalation. He allowed his head to drop forward so that their foreheads were touching.

            “Why are you doing this,” he wondered quietly. He was suddenly exhausted and confused. “Why do you care so much, Hannibal? There are hundreds of other people out there that don’t have even a fraction of the baggage I carry.”

            “I care because I see a part of myself in you,” Hannibal admitted. They were the most honest words he could ever remember uttering on an emotional level. He was not in the habit of lying for the sake of lying. Most of his lies were more omissions and twisted words formed as jest or sarcasm that was easily misconstrued. He was not a nice man. He was courteous, respectful, polite and friendly when it suited his purposes, but he was not a good man and it was rare that he felt these softer emotions and rarer still for him to admit their existence. “You intrigue me on a basic, human level. We both have layers upon layers no one else has had the fortitude or the desire to peer under. And it is rather pompous of me to say, but I feel I have met my match.”

            Will felt a sadness that was hard to explain. “My layers aren’t the nice and fluffy kind, Hannibal. I get darker and more bloody the deeper you go. I- I’m not… I’m scared I’m going to drag you into a world you shouldn’t have to be a part of.”

            “Dearest, Will,” Hannibal murmured and kissed him more gently than he had ever before. “Losing you before I ever really had you would be darker than anything else I could imagine. We will deal with your demons together.”

*~*~*

            The furry, patchwork face stared at Hannibal from behind the thin bars of a cage at the local shelter. He stood still in the middle of the chaos of barking dogs and plaintive meowing and wondered what, exactly he was doing. Golden green eyes didn’t blink as they stared at each other in an almost surreal contest of wills. “Dr. Lecter? Has your kitty found you yet?” The annoyingly chirpy woman that was manning the adoption desk found him again after thankfully letting him wander on his own for a few minutes. She was in her seventies, rail thin with short cropped, permed silver curls and enough pink lipstick to paint a mural.

            “I believe I would like to take this one home with me, Mrs. Yolder,” he answered, ever polite. He would have rather spared himself the entire experience of walking into such a noisy, dirty place and go to a reputable breeder. However, when discussing getting a feline for Will’s Mina, the other man was rather adamant that they search in the shelters. There were so many strays, both dogs and cats that needed homes. By getting an animal from a shelter, Will had argued, you not only got an animal that really needed a home, but you also freed up space for another one to be brought in out of the elements.

            Having considered going to a breeder anyway and just not telling Will where he had acquired the animal, Hannibal had reluctantly discarded the idea. He was saving the deceit for the more important things. “Oh, Miss Evangeline here is a wonderful choice! You said that your daughter really wanted a kitty, and this little one is good with children.”

            “How is she with dogs?” Hannibal asked, watching as the old woman reached out rather bony fingers to unlatch the cage. The small calico shrank back away from the reaching hands and the therapist started second-guessing his choice. If she was shying away from touch, that didn’t bode well for dealing with a four year old child and an admittedly calm golden mix. Children were children and dogs were dogs, not exactly a mix for the faint hearted.

            “Let’s go look at her file, shall we?” Mrs. Yolder gently eased the frightened cat out of the cage and handed her to an unprepared Hannibal. He took the animal and immediately held her to his chest out of reflex. She was tiny for an adult, most likely malnourished as a kitten. He cradled her with his hand under her hindquarters and softened marginally when he saw her tuck her nose between his chest and her front leg, trying to make herself as insignificant as possible. He was oddly reminded of Will.

            The folder was pulled out of a cluttered desk and Hannibal was left wondering if they really did have reliable files on the animals they housed. It made him doubt very much the claim of, “Oh, yes, she was surrendered by a woman with three other cats and a puppy. She was moving into an apartment and couldn’t take them all with her. We have Evangeline’s brothers too, if you’d like to take a look? The pup went with her.”

            “No. Thank you,” Hannibal said, already knowing that the cat was coming home with him. She was a two year old healthy calico with all of her shots, she had been declawed by her first owner, she was quiet and he suddenly found himself reluctant to put her back in her cage with the other noisy creatures. She wasn’t shaking, though it was obvious that she was terrified. It was a courage that he could admire, though he wasn’t quite sure about Mina and Winston being a good choice in caretakers.

            He paid the adoption fee and filled out the paperwork, leaving a decent donation to the non-profit organization that kept the place running, took the temporary carrier with his new pet and drove directly to a vet that Will had inadvertently recommended during their conversations that past weekend. The little one was given a clean bill of health and by the time they had arrived home with a trunk filled with supplies, Hannibal had decided that Evangeline would just have to be Mina’s cat when she and Will visited him.

*~*~*

            “Daddy?”

            Will hummed and glanced back at Mina, who was sitting at the kitchen table drawing with colored pencils and a sketch pad Hannibal had brought for her on his last visit. It was a lot more expensive than Will was comfortable with, considering Mina’s age, but both Hannibal and Mina had been so happy with it that he hadn’t had the heart to mention his concerns. Watching the two together as the former surgeon gently and patiently instructed the four year old on the basics of drawing simple designs had made his chest tight.

            She’d been practicing her dogs and cats for a couple days and the fridge was already nearly filled. He had three of her best in his briefcase to take with him the next time he went to see Hannibal for their friend to see her progress. “What’s up, baby,” he asked when she didn’t say anything else. He looked up again and really looked. She was staring out the paned French doors that led out into the backyard.

            “Daddy, I don’t like the way he’s looking at me.” Will felt a chill go down his spine and he immediately turned the burner off under their dinner.

            “What do you see, Mina?” She looked near to tears, her face pale and her eyes fixed, as if she were too scared to turn her eyes away from whatever she saw outside the glass. He went to her and she jumped when he picked her up. All of the doors and windows were locked out of habit, so he didn’t immediately rush to make sure no one could get in.

            “Hey, kiddo, you want to go upstairs to your room for a few minutes? You can turn on cartoons until I get back,” Will kept his tone easy and conversational as he carried her out of the kitchen and to the bottom of the staircase. He set her down. “Take Winston with you, Mina-mine, and I want you guys to stay there until I come up and get you.”

            “Okay, daddy.” She sounded scared, but she nodded and started racing up the stairs.

            “Mina, wait a second,” he stopped her and went up a few steps to hand her his cell phone. He’d already taught her how to use it to call emergency numbers and had the top five of his speed dial list set up for her to be able to easily get help if something happened. “If I’m not upstairs in ten minutes, I want you to call for help. Look at your clock and every time the number changes, I want you to count until you reach ten. Can you do that for me?” She nodded and he asked, “Okay, repeat back what I just told you.”

            “L-look at my clock and count every time the number changes until I reach ten.”

           “Good girl, baby. Now which number do you call?”

            “Four,” she whispered and toyed with the phone for a moment. Four was Hannibal’s number. It made his stomach twist a little at the faith his daughter was bestowing on someone that, to be honest, she hadn’t known for a very long time. She trusted very few people, and out of the rest of the numbers on his short list of emergency contacts, Hannibal was the one he’d have chosen too. Though he wasn’t exactly the one that should have been first in an emergency, Will knew that he’d get help to them just as quick if not faster than Jack or Alana. Will nodded and she darted back up the steps, the dog going behind her. He waited until he heard her bedroom door close, then went to the hall closet for his handgun.

            Slipping shoes and a jacket on, he stepped outside.

*~*~*

            “D-Dr. Hannibal?” Freezing in place, Hannibal listened to the small, frightened voice on the other line of the phone and slowly lowered the scalpel he’d been using to separate the ribcage of the delivery driver that had backed up into his mailbox and not only refused to take responsibility for it, but had acted like an ass when confronted. The man was dead and had been for nearly five minutes. The doctor was running out of time to harvest what he needed while things were still relatively fresh. He quickly moved in to break the ribs without too much effort. The young man had been fit, but not incredibly large in stature.

            “Mina? Are you all right? Where is your father?”

            “D-daddy’s outside, looking for the bad man that was staring into the kitchen. I’m scared. He said to use his phone if he was gone for longer than ten minutes, but my clock isn’t working and it seems like it’s been a long time. I don’t want to go downstairs to look for him because I don’t want to get in trouble, but I’m scared that he’s in trouble and I don’t want him to be mad that I didn’t listen.” Her words came lightning quick and he could hear the building panic in her young voice.

            “Mina, I want you to slow down and breathe in slow. Can you do that for me?” His hands swiftly and expertly moved to take what he needed, the sharp blade slicing through arteries and tissue effortlessly. He bagged the heart and slipped it into the small cooler he’d brought out to the deserted Virginia woodland he’d chosen as his killing field. He had selected the area with absolute care, finding privately owned acreage with absentee owners and no neighbors for ten miles in either direction. Rural Virginia was a gold mine of places like these and a little discreet but thorough research ensured that if he so chose, he only needed to wait until the cover of darkness to act this time of year. He heard her shakily drag in a breath, letting it out in an impatient whoosh. “Now, I want you to go into the bathroom in the hallway with Winston and close and lock the door.”

            “B-but my daddy,” Mina started to argue.

            “It’s all right, Mina,” Hannibal interrupted gently. “I want you to be safer. Your bedroom has no lock.”

            “Okay,” Mina said and he could hear her clamber off her bed and dart into the bathroom between her bedroom and her father’s.

            “Did you lock the door?” He looked over the chest cavity of the cadaver before slipping the mouth open and slicing out the man’s tongue. He hadn’t any time to take more, though he was less than thirty minutes away from Wolf Trap barring traffic. He needed to make sure the scene was clean before he left, and that would take at least five minutes that he was loathe to waste, not when Will and Mina were in possible danger.

            “Yes.” The word was drawn out with some effort as she strained to reach the old sliding bolt lock that was a several inches above her head. Then he heard the click of the button on the doorknob.

            “All right, now I want you and Winston to get a towel out of the cupboard and sit on it in the bathtub.”

            “Okay. Are you coming?”

            “Yes, I’m on my way.” He closed the cooler and carried it to his car, slipping it into a secret compartment in his trunk, quickly hiding it with a near silent click.

            “Don’t let my daddy get hurt, Dr. Hannibal,” the little girl whispered and he could hear her tears finally start. She really was a remarkable child.

            “I will do my best, Miss Mina. I will be there very soon and I will help your father.” He took the gas can he carried for emergencies and doused the body and the surrounding area. There was no time for his usual staging. The old fashioned but effective method of cleansing by fire was the best for tonight. He lit a match and threw it to the ground, watching as the gasoline ignited with a cracking hiss. To distract her as he stripped out of his killing suit and changed back into the more casual slacks and sweater he had swapped out when he was over the state line and away from anyone who might see and recognize him, he started asking questions about the man she had seen outside the kitchen. “What did the scary man look like, Mina?”

            “He was scary,” she told him in hushed tones, the words echoing a little in the painted metal of the clawfoot tub in their bathroom. “He was big and he was staring at me like he was going to hurt me.” He smiled at the over simplified description that only a child could think was adequate, despite the thrill of worry mixed with anticipation.

            “What color was his hair?”

            “B-brown, I think?” She sounded unsure and very small. “I want my Daddy, Dr. Hannibal. I’m scared and he’s outside and I don’t want him to die.”

            “I will be there very soon, little one,” he soothed as he finally left the dirt road he had taken into the foothills and pulled out onto the major highway. “I want you to keep talking to me quietly, but listen for your daddy to come up the stairs.”

            “O-okay,” she repeated, but lapsed into silence. Hannibal tried to ask her another question, but it was only half formed when he heard Will’s voice calling for his daughter over the line.

            “It’s my daddy!” Hannibal winced and touched his fingers to the wireless device in his ear as she shouted, “I’m in here! Daddy! I’m okay! I’m in here!” She dropped the phone in her haste to climb out of the bathtub and unlock the door.

            Straining his ears to listen to the tender chaos outside of the bathtub where Will’s phone had landed, Hannibal still pressed the speed faster than he normally did when leaving a hunt. He pulled forward a frantic note and waited until Will picked up the cell phone to talk to him. He forced his words out fast and was rather pleased with how shaken he sounded. “Will? Are you all right? What happened? Mina was saying there was a possible intruder. I am on my way.”

 

*~*~*

 

 


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi guys! Thank you so freaking much for the support! :D It seriously makes it easier to keep writing on it, even when my brain is exhausted. I'm going on my third week of work without a day off and it's starting to show. I hope I don't disappoint. And as a quick warning, there's more sex ahead. And fluff.

*~*~*        

          Mina lay between the two men on the couch in Will’s living room, her head in her father’s lap and her feet curled up against Hannibal’s thigh. They had sorted out the mess when Hannibal had arrived nearly two hours earlier, but Will had been exceptionally quiet. Pensive was the word to describe it, the therapist mused as they waited for the little girl to drift off so they could speak without alarming her further. After the fright, she hadn’t wanted to let go of her daddy, which had made a regularly scheduled bedtime nearly impossible. So, after their salvaged dinner, they had all gathered on the sofa to watch a fluffy video that he dimly recognized as a cartoon version of the fairy tale Cinderella.

          They were nearly halfway through the movie when she started dropping off, but Will was waiting until he was sure she wouldn’t wake when he moved her. Finally, he made to shift her off him so he could stand. “Allow me,” Hannibal murmured, seeing it easier for him to stand and pick her up. There would be less jostling and less chance of waking her up again. Will’s smile was soft and unconscious as he allowed his lover to ease Mina up and into his arms. No one else would ever have taken the risk. The one time Alana had tried it, it had ended up in a screaming fit. It had been one of the days Will had to work late and Annie hadn’t been able to watch her in the evening. Mina had fallen asleep in his office and when it was time to go home, Alana had been there to check up on him for one reason or another. Seeing his hands full, his friend had stepped in to help. Instead of taking his laptop or jacket, she had went directly to carry the child. It hadn’t progressed well.

          He followed them upstairs and pulled the covers down so Hannibal could lie her down. Then Will tucked her in and brushed her hair away from her face, kissing her forehead softly. “Love you, Mina-mine,” he whispered and gave Winston an ear rub and a, “Watch her, boy. Keep her safe.” The golden mutt lay down at the bottom of the bed and gave him a near-silent huff in agreement.

          When they were back downstairs, Will went straight for the coffeepot to make a new batch, despite the late hour. His hands faltered with the filters and he dropped them to the counter, his shoulders slumping. Hannibal moved in behind him and took control of his wrists, gathering them in and folding them across Will’s stomach as he drew him back. He rested his chin on his lover’s shoulder, kissed the side of his neck, and waited.

          “There wasn’t anyone outside when I went to look,” Will confessed quietly. “We live out in the middle of nowhere, Hannibal. I know there’s plenty of places to hide, but I checked for signs everywhere. That’s why it took me so long to get back to Mina. There was nothing. He would’ve had to be standing really close to the back doors for her to see him. There should have been some trace of him out there. It rained last night and it turns the back half of our yard into mud. There should have been prints or something to show for him being out there.”

          “Do you believe she saw a reflection and her imagination ran away with her?”

          Will sighed and leaned into Hannibal wearily. “I don’t know. She was so scared and certain that someone was out there, looking in at her.” He hesitated for a moment, then confessed softly, “I used to see things like that when I was a kid. It started when I was a little older than Mina, after my mother disappeared and my father moved us to Baton Rouge for a job. After a while, I stopped telling anyone about it and I stopped looking.”

          “Have you considered that it was not merely imagination that drove you to see such things,” Hannibal asked, tightening his hold when Will would have pulled away. He rested the side of his face against Will’s and could feel his friend’s skin burning with a mix of embarrassment and some irritation. “Shh, I did not say such a thing to upset you.”

          “I know,” Will murmured and tried to relax. “I don’t know what to think anymore, Hannibal. So much of what I went through as a child, I’m seeing Mina go through now. I thought that I was just a screwed up, strange kid that had really poor coping skills. I’m fighting to give her everything I never had, and it’s still not enough.”

          Hannibal turned him around in his arms gently and clasped his upper arms, “Will, I have never seen such a devoted father as you are. And now I am here with you. I will not let you go this alone, not any longer.”

          Will closed his eyes and leaned forward to press a kiss to his lover’s mouth, harder than he’d intended in his sudden desperation. “I don’t want to think about it anymore, doctor,” he whispered, “Make me forget?”

          Hannibal cupped his face again, thumbs rasping against the day old beard. He pressed his solid body into the younger male, making Will hum with satisfaction as the hard edge of the countertop pressed into his backside. “Please, Hannibal,” he sighed as he hovered over lips that tasted of coffee and sugar. “I need you to get rid of everything in my head. I need it gone, please. I only want to think about you and what you’re doing to me.”

          Hannibal couldn’t repress the shiver that ran through him at the words and he transferred one arm around Will’s back, while fingers tightened on his chin. “You will need to stay quiet,” he whispered thickly, “as to not wake the child.”

          “I have an attic room set up for guests,” Will smirked and pressed his hips forward so that they fit together even tighter. He could feel how hard the other man was even through their trousers. “It’s on the other side of the house from Mina’s bedroom and on the upper level.”

          “Show me.”

          When they reached the upper level of the old farmhouse, Hannibal was pleasantly surprised by the state of the ‘guest room’, seeing that it contained a full walnut bedroom set that looked to be in excellent condition with a full sized bed and a large mirror over the long dresser positioned near the foot of the bed and under the window. There was a fine layer of dust on everything, as if no one had been up there in a long while, but it smelled of lemon furniture polish and a hint of lavender. Will stood in front of the bed, unbuttoning his shirt slowly. His eyes were on Hannibal’s face, still not looking directly in his eyes, but very close.

          He slipped the cotton off his shoulders, tossing it to the chair situated near the dresser and leaving his chest bare. “I want you to touch me and mark me.” His voice was low and husky with want, and Hannibal could see the evidence of his arousal pressing against the front of his gray slacks. “I need to get rid of this… dark. It builds up and builds up until I want to scream. Meditation only goes so far, then it just becomes another layer of frustration. When I’m with you… When you put your hands on me…”

          Hannibal watched as Will tried to form the words to communicate what he was feeling. Eyelashes fluttered over blue and finally Will closed his eyes, unable to keep looking as he finished, “When you put your hands on me, all I can feel is you. Nothing else, no _one_ else. Just you, and just me.”

          He jumped when he felt fingers on his jaw, the touch gentle and barely there. Lips found his pulse point and he turned his head, exposing his neck and Will shivered as the touch remained soft as it traveled the length of his shoulder and around to his back. Splayed across his achingly hot skin, Hannibal’s hand was so light, all of Will’s focus went to the large span of where it rested on the curve of his lower back. Nerve endings alight, he bit back the needy whine that threatened. He placed his own palms on the broad shoulders of the man in front of him, briefly bracing himself before moving fingers to the buttons of the silk oxford that had lay under the sweater Hannibal had long since discarded in the warmth of the farmhouse.

          While he was working on the shirt, he felt the cool pressure of fingers at the button of his fly, a quick tightening, then his pants were pooling around his ankles. His breath was coming faster, his heart racing as they finished disrobing. He was guided back onto the bed after Hannibal pulled the dusty blankets down and off the end of the bed to expose the clean sheets underneath.

          A tender exploration started then, touches and kisses that were feather light and nearly maddening in their gentleness worshipped his body. By the time Hannibal’s mouth finally encircled his arousal, Will was gripping the bedsheets with white knuckles. His heart was tripping in his chest and it was all he could do not to reach out and try to grip more. His hips bucked up, out of his control, but Hannibal’s hands fastened down on his hipbones, holding him still as he was swallowed down.

          Even this was easy, gentle, and maddeningly slow. It was driving Will to a fever pitch. Every one of his nerves were on hyper alert, his entire being focused only on Hannibal and what his body was doing to his own. He felt every breath, every pulse, every shiver. He heard every whisper of skin against skin, every sigh, every hum, every hitch. Everything built and built until he gasped out, “Hannibal, please, I- I want you inside me when I come. P-please.”

          But the doctor had something else in mind. He sucked harder, swallowing the flesh in his mouth, hollowing his cheeks to better accommodate. His nails, perfectly clean and manicured, scraped the flesh of Will’s backside, just enough to give extra stimulation without pain. Pain was what Will had asked for, had begged for, had expected. Hannibal had wanted to show him that there were other ways to lose oneself. Pain was pleasant and it wasn’t far from Hannibal’s agenda, but tonight he knew that his lover needed something different. He, himself, found that he wanted to _give_ something different.

          He groaned around Will’s length as the profiler’s hands finally found their way into his hair, carding through the soft strands. He didn’t grip, didn’t thrust. He just held on and stiffened as he finally fell over the edge with a long keen. Hannibal swallowed the release, the taste salty and slightly bitter, and thought idly of trying to incorporate more fresh fruit into the food he prepared for his little family.

          Will tugged him up and latched onto his mouth, tongue darting inside to taste himself on the other’s tongue. He was trembling and Hannibal was surprised to find that the young man wasn’t drained, but more than ready to reciprocate the attention. “I still want you inside me,” he gasped, pressing moist lips across Hannibal’s jaw and up to gently bite his earlobe. “Do you want that, doctor? Do you want to fuck me until I’m hard again, begging for you to finish me? Or do you want me to suck you dry?”

          In response, Hannibal flipped them until Will was on top, straddling his stomach. “In my trouser pocket,” he managed and held onto Will’s thighs as he leaned over the side of the bed to pick out the small tube in his pocket. In less than a minute, Will was sliding himself down onto the slick thickness of Hannibal’s erection. The burn and stretch was exactly what he needed and his eyelids fluttered as his breath stuttered. Once settled and more or less used to the intrusion, he started a fast and punishing pace.

          Knowing that this was for him, Hannibal focused on his own pleasure, guiding Will’s hips in an undulating pattern that gripped him just the right way. He surveyed the beautiful man astride him through half-lidded eyes, his fingers tight as they held the perfectly pale flesh. Beads of sweat rolled down his face and chest, highlighting the plane of his torso and flat stomach, but it was the rapturous expression that took Hannibal’s breath away. In a quick motion, he moved their position so that Will was on his hands and knees, chest nearly pressed to the soft mattress. He took a second to run his hands up the slick back to clutch heaving shoulders before sliding back in with a hoarse cry.

          From there it didn’t take long. He gave free reign to the urge to take and possess, relishing the moans and sharp cries as Will moved to meet his hard thrusts. When Hannibal’s hand wrapped around his renewed hardness, Will came again, harder than before.

          Exhausted and spent, Will fell into the mattress, pulling Hannibal down with him with a sighing groan. They lay there for several minutes just recovering. “We need to shower and go back downstairs,” he breathed, rubbing his face against Hannibal’s chest sleepily. “Mina might wake up and I want to be near enough to hear her.”

          “Of course.”

          Within thirty minutes and a shared shower, they were in Will’s bed and Hannibal listened with a growing sense of contentment as the other man slipped into sleep.

*~*~*

          Waking up to the sound of hysterical screams was something that Hannibal would rather forego when it was someone he was beginning to hold dear, he decided as he and Will were drug up out of a sound sleep. Will didn’t bother with a shirt, and since both of the men had showered and slipped into pajamas before falling into sleep, Hannibal having retrieved his emergency bag from the car- a different bag from the one currently hiding in the secret compartment in his car with the cooler- he went directly into his daughter’s room.

          Hannibal watched from the doorway as Will went through the usual motions of sitting gingerly on the edge of the girl’s bed and softly called her name until she came awake. When she whimpered, “D-daddy?” He pulled her into his arms and cradled her in his lap as she shook and sobbed and babbled.

          “H-he was hu-hurting you,” she cried and Hannibal stepped further inside her bedroom, making his presence known in a small, unobtrusive way. Mina saw him and she reached out one thin arm up and out, the other still clinging desperately to her father. “D-Doctor Ha-annibal, do-don’t let the-them hurt my d-daddy!”

          Will’s blue eyes were swimming with tears as he looked up at Hannibal. There was a suspended moment where the air was thick with something akin to anticipation. Then it was over and Hannibal was stepping forward to cradle both the father and the child while they shook on the bed. Mina was near to inconsolable, even sandwiched between the two men. Her face was nestled in Will’s chest and one of her tiny fists was wrapped up in Hannibal’s shirt.

          “I will not let anything happen to your daddy, little Mina,” he found himself promising the little girl as he stroked her hair and her shoulder. He was brought back to another time and another place; his sleeping mind had already halfway carried him there with bittersweet accuracy. The golden brown curls morphed and changed texture under his fingers, becoming a fine, straight white blonde. The ache was real, and the visceral urge to protect and hold and _keep_ was so strong that he pressed his face against Will’s shoulder and buried himself deeper and closer to the trembling pair.

          “I will not allow anything to happen to either of you.”

*~*~*


	8. Chapter 8

 

*~*~*

          Will sat on the aisle seat, next to Hannibal, his hand firmly entrenched in the therapist’s as they listened to the golden haired singer on the makeshift stage at the fine museum. He’d agreed to go on the condition that Hannibal not be disappointed if he needed to slip away for a few minutes ever so often to escape the pressures of too many people in one space. Agreeing with a soft, rather indulgent smile, his lover had explained that just having Will experiencing it with him would be worth any concessions.

          Dressed in a finery that surprisingly didn’t make him feel awkward and inadequate, Will had made arrangements for Mina to stay with Annie for an overnight visit and met Hannibal at his Baltimore home. Not quite knowing what to wear, he’d enlisted one of the few people he could actually call friend. After about a half hour of good-natured ribbing and pressing for details, Beverly had agreed to help him as long as she got to meet the elusive doctor for herself. She’d heard about the fiasco with Jack and Alana and she’d had more than a little to say about the situation.

          “Dude, as much as I’d love to have you on the team for keeps, this isn’t for you. Jack’s an ass and he doesn’t think much beyond the closure rate. He’d push you until you were so far gone there’d be nothing left of my pretty boy.”

          “Pretty boy?” Will had raised his eyebrows at her wording and she’d grinned with her signature shrug.

          “Right now, you’re pretty fucking hot, Graham. Especially with the chest bites.” She gestured at the purple bite mark barely showing on his collarbone where the evidence of his last night with Hannibal was glaringly obvious. He had been suddenly very glad he’d put his shirt on in his bathroom so that she couldn’t see the rest of it. As he shifted in his seat at the opera, he could feel the soreness of the bruises on his backside, the slight sting of healing welts on his hips against his trousers. The little pains grounded him, made it easier to focus. Made him hard as a fucking rock.

          Hannibal wasn’t completely unaffected by the nearness of his lover in a place he had always wanted to share with the right person. Seeing Will enthralled by the powerful music, his blue eyes never leaving the beauty on the stage, made him want to reach over and touch him. He wanted to run his hand across the muscular thigh and up to the juncture of his legs. He wanted to cup his arousal and bring it to peak, kneel down between the seats, take Will’s erection into his mouth, into his throat, and then swallow it down like a wanton whore.

          Will shifted in his seat and his hand tightened on Hannibal’s, just enough to bring a smile. Hannibal could feel eyes on them from behind their seats, but didn’t turn to look. He knew who it was, had seen the portly man when they’d first arrived. Franklyn Froidevous and his tall, glowering companion. He had noticed at the very beginning of the night, when they had first handed over their tickets and checked their coats. A minor annoyance that was easy enough to push aside to thoroughly enjoy his first real outing with Will.

          He leaned in and whispered something nonsensical in Will’s ear, brushing his lips over the lobe as he did. He smirked when the other man shivered and turned his face into his. Their noses brushed in the dim light and there was a touch of lips before they both turned back to the performance. Hannibal wasn’t one to be overly demonstrative in public, knowing that the gossips and ‘friends’ he claimed in his social circle would leap on such an act like rabid animals. Will was different from anyone else he had ever allowed into his intimate company. He felt the need to publicly claim the young man, to allow others to see and force them to acknowledge Will’s own claim on him. It was all a rather basic and unusual urge for him, but one that he didn’t see any harm in. It was another sign that this all was more than just a passing fancy.

          After the performance, Will slipped away to the restroom, bemused at the kiss brushed against his temple before he left. Hannibal bit back a smirk. Of course, Will knew what he was doing. The miracle was that the prickly boy allowed it. This was highly unusual behavior for them both. It had been since the beginning, he reflected as he turned to speak with the first person to approach him. “My dear, Hannibal! Now who is that darling boy you have on your arm?”

          “Cecilia, good to see you,” he said automatically, bussing her cheek with the barest hint of a polite kiss. She smelled of expensive cosmetics and even more expensive perfume. It burned his nose and made him ever more grateful for the simple, earthy scent of his William. The older socialite brought her entourage with her and he was soon surrounded by smiling faces of Baltimore’s elite, all of them eager to hear about and meet the young man that had captured the elegant bachelor’s eye.

          “Well? Who is your young beau and how did you meet him?” Cecilia was like a bloodhound after a scent. Her dark eyes gleamed up at him and for a short second, he imagined how it would feel to wrap his hand around her neck and twist until there was a satisfying crack. There wasn’t much to her, only bones and sparse flesh. He felt Will hesitate on the outskirts of the group and reached back unerringly to find his hand and pull him forward next to him.

          “Cecilia, this is Will Graham,” Hannibal introduced, giving one of his more charming smiles when Will’s cheeks reddened at the impromptu attention. “We met while I was consulting on a missing person’s case for the FBI.”

          “The FBI?” Cecilia’s eyes widened with glee and she looked to her own date for the evening, a man nearly twenty years her junior. His smile was bored and a little strained as he dutifully stepped a bit closer. She slipped a bony arm through his and laughed. “I didn’t know you did consulting, Hannibal. Is that why you’re always too busy to host one of your dinner parties?”

          “It’s not that I have been too busy,” Hannibal twinkled, his human suit firmly in place as he spanned his hand across Will’s side, slipping it into the curve where waist met narrow hip. “I will host a party when inspiration strikes. I cannot force a feast. A feast must present itself.”

          Lips pursing, the woman finally smiled and winked at the two men. “Well, you have a new love to impress now, Hannibal. Maybe we won’t have to wait too much longer.” She laughed when Will’s face flamed.

          “He’s already impressed me, Ms. Cecilia,” Will remembered his manners and it made Hannibal even more certain that he had made the right choice in introducing him to this side of his life. His smile was a bit strained and he still refused to look anyone in the eyes, but he was trying. Right at the moment, he was fixed on the bridge of the woman’s nose. It had been broken before. Wealthy socialite she may be, but once upon a time she hadn’t been treated as such. _‘Really, CeCe!? Can’t you do anything right? Fuck.’_ Will blinked and shook himself at the echo of a fist striking pale and fragile features. He felt suddenly sick. The room was too small and there were too many people. They were all looking at him. He leaned into Hannibal, trying to make it not so obvious. The doctor’s fingers tightened on his hip, finding a deep bruise that had been left two days earlier. The quick stab of pain cleared his head and he immediately had to fight the urge to bite his lip.

          “So, what is it that you do for the FBI that Hannibal had a chance to make your acquaintance? You must work for the bureau in one form or another.”

          “I’m a teacher at Quantico and I was pulled in as another profiling consultant,” Will answered, uncomfortable and skimming over his own role in what had transpired.

          The attention was taken off him for a moment as Cecilia turned her gaze to a short, rather heavyset man with a beard and a shy, almost sheepish smile. He and his taller, more dignified companion had been hovering around the circle of people, waiting for the right opportunity to step in and speak. “I believe this young man is trying to get your attention.”

          “Hello,” Hannibal finally acknowledged the presence of his patient, reaching out a hand for the other man to shake. His palms were clammy and sweaty. Hannibal barely resisted the urge to take out his handkerchief and wipe his hands. Instead, he offered it to Franklyn’s companion.

          “Hi. It’s good to see you.” Hero worship, Will decided as he stood to the side and watched their interaction. ‘This is my friend Tobias.”

          “Good evening.” Hannibal stepped back to touch Will’s elbow, doing his own introductions. “This is my partner, Will. Will, this is Mr. Froidevous.”

          Will blinked at the title. Of course, it was obvious that they weren’t just friends. Not the way the psychiatrist couldn’t seem to keep his hands off of him, or the way Will was similarly having trouble resisting the urge to tug Hannibal out the door with him on a desperate bid for escape. Not that the last was obvious. Or at least, Will hoped it wasn’t obvious. He hadn’t been expecting to be introduced as a _partner._ They hadn’t discussed any of this. His heart tripped a little and he found his throat very dry all of a sudden. He managed a smile and took what he hoped was a casual sip of the champagne Hannibal had procured for him while he was in the restroom. He didn’t offer to shake hands with either of the newcomers. Shaking hands was something he did only if he absolutely had to.

          There was a bit of ill-concealed disappointment tinged with jealousy as the shorter man laughed and said, “You can call me Franklyn.”

          “And how do you two know each other?” Cecilia asked, ever curious.

          “There should be some mystery to my life outside the opera,” Hannibal countered, still keeping a level of charm, but there was a hint of sternness to his answer.

          “I’m one of his patients,” Franklyn interjected, trying for coy and a bit sheepish. Attention seeking with moderate to severe anxiety, Will thought. Neurotic and eager to please. A man so unhappy with himself that he unthinkingly sought to emulate the people he admired. His eyes went to Franklyn’s friend, Tobias. There was a look of recognition on his face, almost delighted at whatever he saw when he looked at Hannibal. Protective instinct came up and Will became very still, very alert. Almost without realizing it, he delved deeper into the looming shade that seemed to hover over him.

          _Had to open you up to get a decent sound out of you._ Will blinked and shook himself.

          “Did you enjoy the performance,” Hannibal was asking and Franklyn was nodding enthusiastically.

          “I did. Every minute.”

          “His eyes kept wandering,” Tobias said and Will’s jaw clenched at the slow, almost sleepy tones. “More interested in you than what was happening on stage.” His eyes shone over at Will and blinked at whatever he was seeing in the profiler’s face. A new, different awareness dawned. It was miniscule, but it was there. This was a man that was very good at hiding what he was, but Will was no stranger to seeing under the surface of what passed for normal.

          “Oh, don’t say too much. You must leave something for us to discuss next week.” A pause, then a hearty, “Franklyn, it was good to see you.” And with another quick handshake, the two were dismissed.

          As soon as the duo were gone, Will felt his shoulders relax marginally. His enjoyment of the evening had been put off, however, and there was something shrill about the laughter surrounding him. Everything felt off and strange and he tried to act normal, he really did. After a few more minutes, he whispered in Hannibal’s ear, “I need to get some air. I’ll be right back.”

          Hannibal let him go with a concerned look and a quick squeeze to his forearm. Will walked outside and around the side of the building, foregoing his coat to let the cold night air brace him. The old panic was rising, his senses overloaded and head aching. He leaned against the ancient brick and rested his hands on the top of his knees, bending at the waist to breathe. The pressure was building in his chest and it was getting harder to calmly drag air into his lungs. He pulled at the collar of his shirt with a wildly shaking hand and made a low sound in his throat when his fingers didn’t want to work.

          He startled when he felt hands touching his shoulders, flinching away automatically, ready to defend himself if necessary. “Shh,” Hannibal soothed and Will immediately melted, shoulders slumping. “It’s just me, Will. I have you.”

          “I’m sorry,” Will said softly, not looking up into Hannibal’s face, half-afraid to see the disappointment he’d seen on countless other faces through the years.

          “There is nothing to be sorry for,” Hannibal spoke gently and stroked his hand across Will’s neck, fingers massaging the taut muscles. “You warned me at the beginning that there might be a time when you needed to step away. I respected it then, and I respect it now. The night is not a loss, my dear. In fact, I am deliriously happy with how well it went.”

          Will laughed and looked up at his _partner’s_ face, blinking at the honest smile and shining eyes. “I made our excuses and grabbed our coats. Are you ready to go home?”

          “Yes,” Will said and straightened, but gripped Hannibal’s forearms instead of moving toward the car. He pressed forward and captured thin lips with his own. When he pulled away he said questioningly, “You introduced me as your partner.”

          “I hope that wasn’t presumptuous.” There was a glint of worry and Will felt a jolt of… something strange, almost a mix of guilt and elation and fright. Hannibal clasped Will’s elbows with his hands so that they were standing there linked by their forearms, standing so close that their chests were nearly touching, their breath mingling in the cold night air. “I realize that we haven’t been… dating for very long, but my feelings are…”

          Will was nearly undone by the hesitation in his friend’s voice, by the uncertainty written across his usually stoic face. Hannibal had long since realized the best way to deal with Will was to allow vulnerability, to show the cracks in his armor- even if there weren’t any. It brought out a long denied protective instinct in the younger man, an urge to assure and to placate, to make safe. It reeled him in even deeper.

          “It’s… it’s not bad,” Will said finally, his smile a little tremulous. “I just don’t know if you really realize what you’re getting into, Hannibal. A part of me still doesn’t want to accept that you’re not going to disappear and leave us behind. I have Mina to think about too. She’s getting very attached to you and… And I don’t want to have to explain to her…”

          “Actions speak louder than words, and I intend to prove that I am not going anywhere,” Hannibal said, then hesitated, “If you are unsure and wanting to slow our progress, I understand. I didn’t mean to be so forward. This is new for me… I never allow for such intimacy and I fear that I have let myself fall forward much too quickly.”

          “Hannibal,” Will interrupted the speech that was coming more rapidly than he had ever heard the other man speak. It was hard for him to see the uncertainty and the barely hidden hurt in the other man’s dark eyes. He repeated, “Hannibal, that’s not what I want. I don’t want us to step back. I don’t want to lose you. I’m letting my own fears and insecurities get to me. Hell.” He let go of Hannibal’s arms and leaned back against the black brick. He ran a hand through his hair. “I don’t want to screw this up. See? I’m a goddamn mess.”

          Hannibal cupped the back of his neck again, pulling him forward into a soothing, sweet kiss that melted the rest of his resolve. Tongues and teeth and taste drowned out everything else and made him hum at the back of his throat, a sound that Will wasn’t aware he was making. It sent a shiver of want through Hannibal, a thick hot ball of unaccustomed warmth to form in his chest.

          “Let’s go home, Dr. Lecter,” Will whispered against his lips. When Hannibal pulled back, there was a hesitation, almost a need for them to stay just as they were. A loud laugh from the front steps broke the moment and the two men stepped apart, Will blushing at the nearness of people who would no doubt misconstrue their closeness. But the smile in Hannibal’s eyes made it worth it to walk back through the throngs of people finally leaving the event. Soon enough, they were ensconced in the Bentley and back in their own little bubble.

*~*~*

          “Will, I really need you out there and on my team.” Will clenched his jaw so tightly his teeth ached. Jack was standing less than a foot away from where Will was packing up his things to go home, hovering like a dark avenging angel.

          “I already told you no, Jack,” Will said, carefully not looking at him. He kept his gaze completely focused on his laptop and his case, carefully rolling the cords to put them in their right spot before busying his fingers with sorting papers that had already been sorted. Anything to keep him from having to be still and face the impatient insistence Jack brought with him.

          “There’s been a murder at the Baltimore House of Fine Arts. A man had the arm of a cello inserted into his throat and his vocal chords turned into strings.”

          _I had to open you up to get a decent sound out of you._ Will was suddenly cold. He stilled and finally looked up at Jack, who poorly hid his triumph. “The scene is still rather fresh and I had them hold it for you. Would you please come with me to take a look? I know that it’s a place that Dr. Lecter frequents.”

          Will felt anger and fear collide in his gut. “I don’t appreciate the emotional manipulation, Jack. First you use Mina to drag me in on the Shrike, and now you’re using Hannibal to get me back out on another one. I could report this as harassment.”

          “But you won’t. You know I’m right, and you know that he might be in danger if this man isn’t caught.” Once again, Will was reminded that a man didn’t make it to the head of the BAU being stupid. This was the beginning of the end, he thought darkly. There was no fucking escape for him when it came down to it. The only way would be to transfer, to pack up his home and his daughter and go somewhere else. The ability- the _disorder_ that made him invaluable as an instructor also made him a target for people like Jack who either didn’t care or didn’t understand what it did to him to look. The scar on his shoulder ached, a phantom pain that reminded him that it wasn’t worth it to risk his life and his sanity to catch these monsters.

          The adoring face of the man introduced as Tobias came to mind and he closed his eyes against the spike of pain in his head. He didn’t know how Jack had stumbled on his own fears, but it was working. “I’ll go look, but no promises that I’ll follow up on any of this. I’m just walking the scene. That’s it.”

          “Thank you.”

          Will clenched his teeth and pulled out his phone. “Give me five minutes to call my babysitter.” Virginia was as pleasant as ever, but she was genuine in her regret that she couldn’t keep Mina longer. She had an appointment that she couldn’t cancel or bring Mina along. He assured her that he would see what he could do, hung up, and called Hannibal.

          The therapist was just finishing up his notes on his last patient of the day and agreed to retrieve Mina and take her along with him to run errands while they waited for Will to finish and join them at his home. The smile that had appeared when speaking to Hannibal vanished rapidly the moment he disconnected the phone and faced Jack again.

*~*~*

          “Purple.” Mina giggled at the eggplant Hannibal held up for her to put a color to.

          “Very good, Miss Mina,” he smiled and asked, “Now do you know what this is?”

          She thought a moment, her lips pursed as she tried to remember. Then she shook her head, her eyes bright with curiosity. Hannibal was enthralled by the impromptu game he had started when they’d first entered the market. Her knowledge base was almost as impressive as her thirst for learning more. She was unafraid to ask questions or admit when she didn’t know something, and she wasn’t shy about hazarding a guess.

          “Eggplant,” he said and she wrinkled her nose at the strange name.

          “It doesn’t look like an egg.”

          “It doesn’t taste like an egg either,” he said and placed it in the basket behind her.

          “What does it taste like?”

          “How about we have some for dinner tonight and you can find out?”

          “Okay,” she said, sounding excited about eating the dark purple vegetable. “Purple is my favorite color. Daddy likes green. What’s your favorite?”

          “I like yellow,” he answered and tried to remember when he had last engaged in such a simple and utterly enjoyable conversation. “Like the sun.”

          “Do you like orange? The sun is orange too, and red. Do you like red?”

          And so it went as they progressed through the produce and into the bakery. By the time they had made it through checkout, Hannibal had confessed more of the basic truths about his likes and dislikes than he had ever before and Mina had him wrapped completely around her tiny fingers. He had spent time with her before, of course, but it had never been one on one and Will had always been there as a buffer of sorts. She was proving to be much more worthy of his attention than most adults he knew. He wondered if her father had been as bright and curious as she was.

          A picture of Will as a child had been building in his mind, and he knew that if given the chance, the little boy would have been very similar to Mina. Childhood had not been kind to Will, his circumstances and difficulties conspiring to make him what he was today. Having the child had been his saving grace, his reason to at least attempt a normal life. Something might have to be done about Jack Crawford. Once upon a time, Hannibal may have encouraged Will to go back into the field, to keep pushing those boundaries until the damage was irrevocable, until there was nothing much left of the young man he was so that Hannibal could rebuild him as he saw fit.

          It had been his design after all, to break the barriers keeping morality in check, to push and to prod and to make sure that the only person left in his life that mattered was Hannibal. Now, he felt rather different. He didn’t want the child to suffer, and suffer she would if her father’s sanity slowly melted away. She was so in tune with her surroundings, to her father in particular, that the darkness would infect her as well.

          As he buckled her into her car seat, he knew that she was much more precious as she was, and that he was growing soft. There were other, quicker ways to get what he wanted.

*~*~*

          “Dr. Lecter! What a surprise to see you here!” The overenthusiastic tone of Franklyn Froidevous’s voice was very telling on how not random this encounter had been. Hannibal felt his face smooth out from the genuine smile he had been sharing with Mina to a more polite, very reserved expression. They were in the artisan cheese shop that the psychologist preferred, and as their last stop before home, he had been trying to move quickly before his young charge became restless. She had already been talking about her kitty that lived at his house and asking if Evangeline would want to play.

          “Franklyn,” Hannibal greeted him coolly, taking in the other man’s flushed face and bright eyes. It had taken him a bit of courage to approach the elusive doctor outside of his office.

          “What a surprise to meet you here.” Again with the over excited tone, eager eyes flitting over the purchases in Hannibal’s basket, and the little girl clutching his hand. Mina felt his eyes on her and shrank into Hannibal’s leg, pressing the side of her face into the fabric of his trousers. She was suddenly shy and very uncomfortable, something he had observed when dealing with most strangers. However, she hadn’t had an issue with any of the cashiers they had encountered so far, keeping up the happy dialogue and charming everyone standing nearby with her quick and bright conversation skills. Those had been brief interactions and no one had tried to touch her. He hadn’t known any of them either. He realized that she was picking up on his sudden tension and his irritation at being approached despite the firm line he had drawn with his patient.

          “And who is this?” Franklyn asked, his voice going a bit higher, bordering on baby-talk. Mina stiffened as he bent down to be more at her level, speaking directly to her.

          “Dr. Hannibal, can we go now,” she whispered and he could feel her start to tremble a little. A swell of anger hit him suddenly and he was surprised by the force of it. He didn’t care for her upset, and it was unacceptable to allow someone to make her feel that way.

          “Of course, Miss Mina,” he said gently, “Would you like me to carry you? Your legs must be getting tired after all our walking.” He ignored Franklyn for the moment and scooped up the girl when she nodded against his leg. The moment she was in his arms, she buried her face in his neck and tucked her hands between their chests.

          “I’m sorry, Franklyn, I must be departing for home now. We are out much later than I had anticipated. Good afternoon.” Thankfully he had already located what he had meant to purchase and was able to go directly to checkout.

          “I don’t like him,” Mina said quietly, her mouth turned down in a deep frown that gave Hannibal a warm twist in his chest. She looked so much like Will it was endearing. “I’m not a baby.”

          “No, my little one, you are not a baby,” Hannibal agreed, then purposely changed his tone to a lighter one and smiled down at her, tapping her nose playfully once he was done buckling her into her seat. “Are you ready to go play with your kitty?”

 

*~*~*

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I couldn't resist putting Beverly in as a friend to Will. I love their dynamics and could easily see them bantering back and forth. And in this story, Beverly and Hannibal didn't interact closely during the Shrike case. As for Cecilia, I just made up a name for the woman at the opera because I didn't catch it in the episode. :D Thanks for reading!


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you guys so much for reading this and leaving comments and kudos! This is sort of short, but it gets us rolling toward heavier stuff. :D Cheers!

*~*~*

          Lexie Smiths Graham was easy enough to find. Tending bar in a little dive on the outskirts of DC, she was a beautiful, petite pixie of a woman. Voluptuous curves were enhanced by jeans with holes in the thighs and knees and a low-cut black t-shirt with the emblem of the bar emblazoned across her generous breasts. Soft black ringlets were pulled up into an artful top-knot that suited her heart-shaped face. Her smile was swift, deep dimples in either cheek appearing as she responded quickly to quips and flirtatious customers.

          Sitting in his corner table, Ian Harper took discreet photos from his tiny portable camera. It was expensive and good quality, able to take clear pictures even in the most dingy of settings. He sipped at his whiskey on the rocks and thought that sometimes the PI business wasn’t all that bad. Well, right at the moment, it wasn’t bad. He watched the woman behind the bar and considered what to do next. His client wanted to know what the woman was doing and what she knew of her ex-husband and daughter, what her inclination was toward the kid. In order to find that out, he had to get closer. Looking at the flashing dark eyes and quick smile, he didn’t think that would be too hard.

          Two and a half hours later, he was tumbling into her small studio apartment a block away from the bar. Hands, mouths, and bodies were in quick, heated motion. There wasn’t much talking, and for the moment, he was okay with that. Talking would come in the morning. His foot was in the door, so to speak, so it would be easy enough to get the information he needed in the following days if he played his cards right.

          As he pressed her down into the bed, mouth traveling over her slender neck and down her perfect chest, he noticed a scar on her torso, remnants of a long gash that started at her sternum and ended at the natural curve of her hip. It was thin and welted as if from a surgery, but it was too irregular, too crooked to be from a surgeon’s hand. He licked along the flesh, making her shiver and clutch at his hair. This was just the opening he had to ask her later. Ian wasn’t stupid and he was very, very good at his job. Instincts were telling him this was the key to how she felt about her ex-husband.

*~*~*

          Will sat in one of the leather armchairs in Hannibal’s library, Mina curled up against his chest as they watched the fire blazing in the stone hearth. He had searched Hannibal’s shelves for a book of fairytales or stories fit for a four year old. It was harder than he’d thought it would be. He’d read most of the Grimm stories, but it had been a very long time and having a little girl, he’d been immersed in the more Disney aspects of the tales. After almost a half hour, the bemused therapist had handed him a different book, one with fables and more or less happy endings.

          Then he had settled into the chair next to Will’s and listened to the father read to his daughter. He hadn’t been able to keep his eyes off the pair, sipping at the glass of wine he held. It was a beautiful moment, one that he wished he could capture and keep forever. In the background he had set his favorite string ensemble to play on the discreet speakers installed into the walls of his inner sanctuary.

          Will’s voice was gentle and rumbling as he read to the child, smooth and calming. He answered the questions Mina occasionally interrupted with, smiling and laughing softly. There was something incredibly, achingly beautiful about Will as he pressed his face into his daughter’s curls, closing his eyes momentarily in the lull between stories just to soak in the warmth and brightly innocent love. The firelight cast a glow over the pair and Hannibal realized that little Mina was nearing sleep, her kitty perched on the back of Will’s chair.

          Evangeline had taken to her little mistress surprisingly well, becoming attached quickly, but still a bit skittish when it came to Will. As long as he was sitting still, she was fine. Hannibal figured that the small animal was intimidated by his size and quick movements. She had taken very well to Hannibal, himself, and he had found her polite taps to his person asking for attention impossibly endearing. On the nights when it was just the two of them, she would follow him silently around the house, watching from a bar stool as he did his kitchen tasks before going into his office or library to settle in. Occasionally, she would curl up in his lap when he was being very still. Insidious creatures.

          When Mina drifted off and Will finished reading the story he had started, the young father stood up with the grace of someone long used to smooth movement as to not startle. Hannibal followed them on silent feet to the guest room he had long since set aside for Mina’s use. He waited with an easily hidden satisfaction as Will stopped in the doorway and looked over the recent remodel. It had taken a few days and very careful consideration, but he had replaced the full sized walnut bedroom set with a twin white metal daybed, the twists and lines of the frame were in the fashion of roses and vines, the posts topped with small gold globes. The room had been repainted a cream and lavender with a border of antiqued gold and green wallpaper with classic unicorns frolicking near the ceiling.

          “I waited for the artwork until Mina could choose for herself,” Hannibal broke the silence softly, insinuating a tone of uncertainty after Will was silent for a beat too long. Blue eyes blinked over at him and he felt a swell of heat at the awe he glimpsed. The smile that broke across Will’s face was worth the work and expense he had put forth. An antique chest sat in the corner next to a white and gold dresser, both ready to receive whatever belongings the girl was willing to bring with her.

          “Thank you,” Will whispered, then moved to the twin bed. Hannibal stepped in to pull the blankets down, then watched as Mina was laid in to sleep in her new bed. Evangeline jumped up and curled into a tiny ball near her head, the patchwork cat completing the picture.

          When they stepped back outside, Will left the door open a few inches so that if Mina were to wake up, he would be able to hear her. He gripped Hannibal’s hand and led him to the master bedroom, forgoing the talk he’d planned to have with the therapist. There would be plenty of time in the morning.

*~*~*

          “Your patient, Franklyn,” Will started softly as the two men eased into a more or less familiar morning routine while Mina was still sleeping. She’d slept through the night and was surprisingly quiet despite the fact that it was nearing eight. He’d already gone to check on her and found that not only was she still breathing, but she was sideways in the bed, one tiny foot sticking out from under the blankets. It made his heart swell knowing that she was so comfortable here.

          “How well does he know his friend Tobias,” he asked now as Hannibal handed him a cup of sweetened coffee with a raised brow.

          “I assume he knows him rather well,” Hannibal answered, “Though I cannot disclose any details. Doctor-patient confidentiality.”

          Will's lips quirked and he took a sip of the liquid caffeine. He shook his head, “I’m worried about something he said at the opera the other night. The case Jack bullied me into going out on was a member of the orchestra. He’d had his throat cut open and held with the neck of a cello, his vocal chords treated and hardened to form strings.” He paused and fixed his eyes on the granite countertop. This was the hard part. Hannibal already knew about his empathy and how he made the seemingly random leaps in logic. They’d discussed it at length, but it was never easy to put it to a personal situation.

          Hannibal was watching him, his hands gently folding the kitchen towel he’d been using to dry his hands. He glanced up with a wry grimace and clarified, being honest, “It wasn’t so much what he said at the opera that struck me, it was a… dark cloud that I could feel from him. _Had to open you up to get a decent sound out of you_. I thought the same thing when I walked the scene. I don’t like the way he looked at you.”

          Feeling sheepish and silly, Will concentrated on his coffee, feeling his face start to flush when Hannibal didn’t say anything immediately. He jumped a little when he felt the other man’s fingers on his chin, the gentle pressure lifting his face. “I am not upset at your concern, Will,” Hannibal said soothingly, a smile touching his lips. “In fact, I must admit that it makes me rather sentimental. I like it that you feel protective over me, as unnecessary as it is.”

          Will captured his wrist and brought it to his lips. “I’m going to be looking into this case further,” he admitted softly. “I want to make sure this situation doesn’t escalate. If Tobias proves to be harmless, then I can breathe easier. He runs in the same social circle as you do and it makes me uneasy thinking that he might be dangerous.” He huffed a laugh, rolling his eyes at himself. “But then, there might be a flare of jealousy making me see things that aren’t there.”

          “I have more faith in your reasoning than most,” Hannibal told him, drawing their faces close. He kissed the corner of Will’s mouth playfully to break the tension that had crept in. “If you feel there is something dangerous, then there is something dangerous. I do ask that you are careful when pursuing this killer, Will. If Tobias is the one you’re searching for, he will not be your typical psychopath.”

          Will was stopped from asking for clarification when Mina came into the kitchen. Her eyes were bright and she happily climbed up the barstool and into her father’s lap. “Daddy! Did you see my bedroom?”

          “I did, Mina-mine,” Will immediately switched to father-mode, the tension leaking out of him in an immediate rush. “What do you say to Hannibal?”

          “Thank you, Dr. Hannibal!” Mina squirmed around until Will let her down on the ground and he watched with amusement as she ran around the kitchen island to throw herself at Hannibal’s legs. The older man picked her up and allowed her to wrap her arms around his neck in a hard, enthusiastic hug. “I really like it.”

          “I am glad.” Hannibal’s voice was suspiciously thick and he momentarily hid his face in her hair. His eyes burned at the sheer joy he could feel from the little girl, the unfettered childish glee at something so simple. He hadn’t realized how much it would mean to him to see her happiness. “Here soon, I want to find some posters for your walls and toys to fill your toy chest. Would you like that?”

          Mina pulled back and nodded, her wild, sleep tousled curls bouncing around her smiling face. “Yes, please! Daddy! We can bring some of my toys from home, can’t we?”

          “Of course, Mina-mine,” Will answered, unable to hide his own happiness at the sight of the two of them. The horrors of his thoughts and dreams faded out as he watched them and listened to his daughter’s bright chatter as Hannibal enlisted her help with cooking breakfast. He was a good teacher, and Mina was a good student, listening carefully and asking questions as needed. She was soon set up with a spoon and batter for her favorite food.

          Hannibal snuck a kiss from Will while she was concentrating on her task, then he pressed his lips to Will’s forehead briefly. “Thank you,” he murmured, the emotion surprisingly easy to come by.

          Will shook his head and caught his fingers momentarily. “I should be thanking you, doctor. You’ve made our little girl very happy.”

          Hannibal froze briefly, then pressed another, harder kiss to Will’s lips, breathing in deeply before turning back to the task of readying omelets for the adults and pancakes for the child. It was either getting easier to pretend, or he was truly being brought deeper into the family mindset. He realized that he truly didn’t mind. Now, what to do about the interloper that was bothering his Will.

*~*~*

 


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You guys are wonderful! Thank you for all the awesomeness! So, I took some liberties with Will's background before they moved to Wolf Trap, and I robbed more of the dialogue from season one- just a warning. I hope this continues to live up to expectations. :)

*~*~*

          Lying in the messy bed, Ian cradled Lexie’s pliant body as they cooled from yet another bout of fucking. He couldn’t call it lovemaking because that was far from the truth. Sex was too mild, and screwing seemed a little… eh. Fucking held just the right amount of vulgarity to appease his need for accuracy. He ran his hand up and down her back, enjoying the little purr of contentment she let out as she stretched languid muscles and rubbed against him in the process. Her dark hair had come out of its confinement and cascaded around them in a thick fall of perfect, natural ringlets. Her smell invaded all of his senses, musky and floral all at the same time. He could very easily picture himself staying right where he was for a few more days.

          His fingers touched the scar on her hip and he traced it back to the beginning just under her sternum. He pressed his mouth to the side of her head and asked, “Where did this come from? It seems pretty intense.”

          She went very still and a shiver went through her. Burrowing closer, she pressed her hand over his, stopping his gentle caress. He felt a tingle that told him he was about to strike gold. “My ex-husband was a son of a bitch.” Her voice was still the same husky alto, but there was a touch of bitterness to it now. A little of the warmth leaked out.

          He was silent, but tightened his arms around her to give the illusion of safety, of protectiveness. He had to admit that it wasn’t really much of an act. Ian was a businessman first, but he had a code of ethics all of his own. He’d covered enough domestic cases to have developed a distaste for abusers. “You’re clear of him now, right? He can’t hurt you anymore?”

          Lexie sighed and rubbed her face against his chest briefly before pulling away and getting up. Walking naked toward the fridge at the end of the kitchenette, she pulled out a couple bottles of water before returning to the bed. She handed him one and opened her own. Ian took it and set it aside, pulling himself up to lean against the wall where the murphy bed folded into the cupboard. He pulled her in close again, cradling her against his chest. Intimacy was the breeding ground for confessions and he didn’t want her to pull away too far.

          “Yeah, I haven’t seen him in three years. We have an agreement.”

          “What kind of agreement,” Ian fished, managing to sound concerned rather than curious.

          She was quiet again, shifting so that she was resting her head against his chest. “I don’t bother him or our daughter and he doesn’t… bother… me.” She shivered again and he realized that she was genuinely scared. She didn’t want to give details, which told him it was deeper than a simple violent home. It was a nasty scar, one that must have hurt and was hard to heal from. He let it lie for the moment, thinking about delving into police and hospital records.

          Lexie moved so she was straddling his hips again, a sultry smile hiding the unrest in her dark eyes. He felt his arousal stir and gave a playful growl as he pinned her back against the mattress, fingers delving back into velvet depths.

*~*~*

          There wasn’t a police report, and there wasn’t a local hospital admittance for Wolf Trap or the surrounding towns. Ian frowned at his laptop and tried another tact. He looked up Will Graham, Lexie’s ex-husband. The name had come with the information packet his client had provided, but he hadn’t put a lot of time into researching the man, seeing that his focus had been to first find Lexie, then go from there. He knew where Graham was, where he had been for nearly four years. His interest sharpened when he started really delving into the man’s history.

          A cop for the New Orleans PD, he’d made detective before getting stabbed by a teenager in a back alley. The kid had been out of his mind on a mix of hallucinogens and speed. He’d stabbed Graham’s partner, a fifteen year veteran, in the side of the throat, before turning the knife on the young officer. The report stated that Graham had tried to talk the kid down, had his gun out and ready to shoot, but he hadn’t been able to. Partner bleeding out on the ground, kid literally foaming at the mouth and holding a knife, and he couldn’t put him down.

          Ian shook his head. That didn’t sound like a man that could nearly gut his wife, no matter what she did. The kid had rushed him and stabbed him through the shoulder, the blade going in at the joint to really fuck things up good. He was in the hospital for nearly a month, had three surgeries to repair the damage and there was a notation about a psych eval in there somewhere. He never went back on the streets as detective again.

          Using the disability settlement and savings, Graham moved his then pregnant wife out to the boonies in Virginia so he could take a position as a teacher for baby FBI agents. Why he hadn’t started there was a mystery to Ian, the dude had the education to back it up. While he was teaching, he’d gone back for his masters in criminal psychology, and had already soaked up two other related degrees. He wasn’t stupid, that was for sure.

          Digging deeper and using hacking skills he’d paid a fortune for, Ian finally found pay dirt. William Graham was some sort of magnet for killers. He somehow knew what they were thinking, could walk through a crime scene and tell how it was done and why. He could get in their heads like no other. One BAU Unit Chief Jack Crawford was the latest in a string of people to use the profiling ‘gifts’ he had to offer. He was the one to put down the Minnesota Shrike. Literally, he’s the one that hunted the psycho down and killed him in a hail of bullets in the man’s kitchen.

          Graham seemed to drop off the map right around the time his wife ‘left’. He went to teaching full time and didn’t participate in any manhunts, much to the consternation of the FBI bigwigs. The solve rate went down. Ian minimized the window and sat back in his chair, running his hands through his hair. He flexed his fingers and reached for his coffee, taking a fortifying sip before going back to the keyboard. There had to be a hospital entry somewhere for the time that Lexie was injured. He just had to find it.

*~*~*

          “Do you remember when I said that Tobias was saying very dark things?” Franklyn started their session nervously, his voice trembling and truly frightened. Ever since their run in at the artisan shop and the subsequent discussion on appropriate behavior outside of the office, their sessions had been moving in a different direction. Their last appointment had been a rather interesting mix of reluctant, almost resentful distancing on his patient’s part. They had discussed the very real possibility of Franklyn’s best friend’s psychopathic leanings.

          It had been vaguely amusing to Hannibal at the time, hearing the shorter man go on about a google search that had led him to an online quiz. Of course Tobias was a psychopath. Like recognized like, after all. He was fairly positive that this was the man his Will was looking for, the one that was vying for his attention. He hadn’t said anything to Will about it yet, waiting for the perfect moment. In cases like these, timing was everything.

         “I made a note of it,” Hannibal answered now, carrying his notebook with him back to his chair, taking the seat opposite the other man. Franklyn smelled of distressed sweat and expensive cologne that had obviously been an attempt to replicate his psychiatrist’s distinctive scent. It mixed wrong with his natural pheromones and made Hannibal’s sensitive nose burn. Before his arrival, he had moved their chairs a bit further apart than normal in a discreet but firm show of putting physical space between them.

          “Well, he said that he wanted to cut someone’s throat and play it like a violin,” Franklyn continued, sounding properly horrified. “They found somebody who’s throat was cut and played like a violin.”

          Hannibal paused, then asked, “So, you think Tobias killed that man at the symphony?”

          “I don’t know.” Franklyn threw his hands up, sounding confused and more upset. He clapped his hands down on his knees and shifted in his chair, agitated. He drew in an unsteady breath. “If I do, do I have to report it?”

          “Do you have a reason not to?”

          “What if I’m wrong?”

          “What if you’re right?”

          Franklyn’s eyes shone across the room at him, and he admitted plaintively, “I’m always wrong. I don’t know. Why would he say something like that to me?”

          Hannibal uncrossed his legs and stared at his patient, waiting for the other man to come to the conclusion on his own. “Why do you think?”

          Face smoothing out in shock, Franklyn said, “Cause he knows I’d tell you.”

*~*~*

          Tobias Budge was a very courteous dinner guest. His manners were impeccable and his dress appropriate. Hannibal couldn’t help but make comparisons between the dark skinned man and his Will. There were hardly two people more opposite, and he rather preferred it that way. Where Tobias was refined, calm, and well-heeled, Will was brash, reckless, battered, and sometimes had the mannerisms of a street urchin. His profiler wasn’t imbued with many social graces and crowds made him irritated and anxious. It was something that Hannibal rather cherished about his partner- the depths of emotion he was capable of were astonishing and it was refreshing to be so close to someone without the inclination to hide those outbursts. Looking into the pit of emptiness behind his current dinner companion’s eyes made him ever more aware of Will’s appeal.

          “More wine,” he offered now, rising to pour the golden liquid into the fragile crystal, ever the gracious host. “A late harvest Vidal from Linden.”

          “Virginia.” Tobias sounded a little surprised, “I thought it was French.”

          “The Virginia wine revolution is upon us,” Hannibal countered. The small talk was easy enough, the banter among monsters ever civil and charming. Once he retook his seat, he made to get to the heart of their connection. “I apologize for being so blunt, Tobias, but I have to ask. Did you kill that trombonist?”

          The smile and head tilt was answer enough. “Do you really have to ask?”

          “No, just changing the subject.” Casual, easy, a bit of a thrill. It was almost too bad that he was going to have to eliminate the young man before too long. He was too much of a wild card.

          “Franklyn gave you my message.”

          “The murder is being investigated by the FBI.” Hannibal took another bite of his dinner, pausing to fully chew and swallow. There was no need to rush or to not give the food the consideration it deserved. ‘They’re going to find you.”

          “Let them.” There was a bit of a bite to his tone now, a sick excitement.

          “You want to get caught?”

          “I want them to try. They may investigate me because I own a string shop. They’ll send men to investigate, I’ll kill them.” There was a petulant, almost childish tone to him now. Eyes shining like black marbles, Tobias ignored his food to lean forward, staring directly at Hannibal. “Maybe it will be your _partner_ that comes for me, Will, his name was? I think I would rather enjoy cutting him open.”

          Hannibal slowly put his flatware down on the table and wiped at his mouth with his handkerchief. He had expected this. He hadn’t expected the immediate protective rage that rose in him at the thought of someone- especially a cheeky upstart like Tobias- harming Will. Only years of iron control made it possible to swallow down the impulse to slit the other man’s throat.

          “Tell me, Dr. Lecter, does your boy at the FBI know about your extra-curricular activities?” He smiled and leaned back, confiding, “I have to admit, I was rather surprised when I followed you one night out of town to a lonely road, to a bus yard. It changed my view on killing you.”

          “You’re reckless, Tobias,” Hannibal said after a long hesitation. He swirled his wine in his glass, taking a considering sip.

          “I’m not going to tell anyone what I saw you do and do well. So my recklessness doesn’t concern you.”

          “It concerns me because you won’t be drawing attention just to yourself.” He rose and walked around the table, going to the sideboard behind the other killer that held the decanters of wine. He felt more than heard Tobias stand and hover intently behind him. The skin on the back of his neck tingled and he felt his fingers twitch, but once again he held back.

          “I could use a friend.” The earnestness was back, the emptiness replaced by longing. Hannibal faced him, holding the wine vessel between them like a shield. “Someone that could understand me. Who thinks like I do and can see the world and the people in it the way I do.”

          “I know exactly how you feel.” And once upon a time, he had. But not any longer. “But I don’t want to be your friend.” He purposely gave Tobias his back, moving to refill their glasses once again.

          There was a tinge of anger now, “Then why did you invite me here for dinner? Wasn’t just to restring your harpsichord.”

          “I was going to kill you.” Three, four, five heartbeats of silence, then Hannibal blinked. There was a pounding at the door, a chime of the doorbell.

          “Expecting anyone?” No, he truly wasn’t. Will was supposed to be at the movie theatre with Beverly and Mina, watching the newest children’s hit. They had plans to rendezvous in Wolf Trap in the morning to spend the day hiking and sledding around the woodlands near Will’s property, weather permitting.

          “No.” A muscle ticked near his eye as irritation swelled. Turning on his heel, he walked briskly from the room, knowing that the moment had passed him by. Either he would return after dismissing his caller to find Tobias waiting in ambush, or the musician missing from his home, recouping for a confrontation at a later date.

          “Dr. Hannibal!” The moment the door opened, Mina Graham held out a container of gourmet frozen yogurt, her pretty face swathed in a happy glow. “We brought ice cream!”

          “I see that.” Immediately quashing any and all irritation, the therapist put all of his effort into erasing any tension that might be lingering near the surface, and bent down to pick up the child because it was expected. He swung her up into his side, bouncing her fragile body slightly to bring about a giggle. He turned his attention to Will, who was moving further into the foyer, carrying a brown shopping bag and trying to shake off the remnants of snow clinging to his hair.

          “I hope you don’t mind us dropping in,” Will’s grin was relaxed, his eyes warm as they took in his lover’s immaculate suit and tie. Mina’s bright purple and green coat clashed with the heavy maroon wool. “Bev had to duck out on us early and Mina wanted to surprise you with desert since we were in town anyway.”

          “Is that right? What flavor of ice cream did you bring for us, Miss Mina?”

          He readied himself for the slight chance of Tobias still lingering in the dining room and led the duo back through to the kitchen. “Chocolate chip peanut butter,” the girl chirped, naming a flavor they had discovered was a simple favorite of all three.

          Will hesitated at the entrance to the dining room, quick eyes surveying the table set for two. “You have a guest?”

          Hannibal carried Mina with him to the French doors, closing them one handedly before going to the door to the kitchen. “A colleague, you just missed him. He had to leave suddenly, an urgent call of some sort.” He nuzzled Mina’s forehead playfully and smiled into her cold reddened face. “But I do have desert to go with your ice cream. What do you say?”

          “Is it chocolate?” Mina asked, then remembered her manners, “Yes, please. Can I help?”

          He lowered her to the ground and she ran to the spot where the step was that he had designated as hers for when she ‘helped’ him in the kitchen. “Pull your step over here and you can help me with dishing out the ice cream.”

          “Come here first, kiddo,” Will stopped her and knelt down to take her coat. “Don’t want you to get too warm, do we?”

          “No, Daddy,” she answered and patiently waited for him to unzip her, but was back beside Hannibal the moment her arms were free.

          After their desert, Mina asked if she could go to her room and draw for a while and see if she could find Evangeline, who was unusually absent. After a slight nod from Hannibal, Will told her yes, but just for a little while since they had to get up early the next day and the weather was getting bad.

          As soon as she ran up the stairs, Will looked to his lover and said, “Something’s bothering you.”

          Hannibal’s laugh was soft and he gestured for Will to follow him into the library. He ignited the gas logs with a touch and moved to sit on the sofa, taking Will’s hand to draw him down beside him. “I hesitated telling you this, as it borders on a violation of the patient doctor confidentiality, but in light of our previous conversations... A patient told me today he suspects a friend of his may be involved with the murder at the symphony.”

          Will was silent, but his grip was firm on Hannibal’s, reassuring as he watched the firelight play across his features. They both knew who he was talking about. “What did he say about his friend?”

          “He owns a music store in Baltimore, specializing in string instruments.” Swallowing hard, Hannibal made it seem as if it were difficult to say the next part, “Perhaps you should suggest to Jack that it would be prudent to interview him.”

          Will nodded and rubbed his eyes tiredly. “I was going to suggest it anyway, I just needed something more concrete than my own instincts and something said offhand at the opera. Jack doesn’t even know I was _at_ the opera, let alone there with you. He doesn’t need to know any more about us than he already does. He’s already using you to manipulate me out into the field, based on what he assumes is our friendship.”

         Hannibal brought their joined hands to his lips. “I believe it may be time for me to have a conversation with Agent Crawford. This is bordering harassment, and I will not stand for it.”

          Will sighed and leaned into Hannibal, breathing in the comforting scent of his cologne mixed with the remnants of desert. “I won’t argue, but it should wait until I’m done working with him on this case. After that, I’ll make it clear that he’s not welcome in my classroom or my home.”

          “He has been to your home, asking for your help?” Hannibal’s gaze sharpened and Will closed his eyes, leaning his head back briefly.

          “After Hobbs and before this one,” Will admitted grimly. “I pretended I wasn’t home. Thankfully Mina thought it was a game as we ran upstairs to hide in the attic.”

          Oh, yes. Something needed to be done about Jack Crawford. Maybe not right away, but soon.

          “Would you stay the night? I’m feeling rather unsettled and I would prefer not to send you and Mina out into the weather.” Hannibal accompanied his request with a heated stare and a hand behind Will’s neck, his fingers digging into the hard, tense muscles. “I worry, knowing that Tobias knows of you.”

          Will’s smile was quick and rather grim as he nodded, “My address is really hard to come by, but yes, we’ll stay. The weather _is_ getting rather nasty.” He drew Hannibal’s lower lip between his teeth and sucked hard, arousal rising in an easy flow between the two men.

 

*~*~*


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You guys are freaking amazing. Thank you for all the love! :D

*~*~*

          Movements were slow, languid, and forceful, flesh fluid and relaxed as hands, arms, and mouths moved across skin. Whimpering low, Will pushed his backside further into Hannibal’s front, his eyes fluttering shut as he was filled in such an agonizingly slow manner. They were on their sides, Will’s thighs apart, one knee pressed to the mattress, the other up and stretched back, over Hannibal’s. His head was cushioned on his counterpart’s upper bicep and he pressed his flushed face into the fragrant, hard muscle even as he trembled under the onslaught.

          He’d woken to wet fingers slipping in and out of him, the unhurried build of pleasure making him come to awareness with a breathy moan. When he tried to move, to turn and touch, to kiss, to reciprocate, a wide hand had stopped him, slipping over his hip to press firmly against his abdomen, just above his own leaking cock. The fingers had stilled and retreated, replaced with a thick head that insistently pressed inward.

          If he had to wake up at all, this was the best way to do it, Will decided and arched his spine, the delicious tingle of a full body stretch taken to the next level by the thrust of Hannibal’s erection against his prostate. He felt his lover shudder and then he was on his hands and knees, fingers gripping the top of the headboard with white knuckles and his head swimming with pleasure as he was penetrated again with a sudden exuberance that bordered violent.

          “Fuck,” he breathed, unable to form anything more coherent. “Fuck, fuck, fuck, _Hannibal!_ ”

          “My beautiful boy,” Hannibal whispered, and there was a tremble to his sure hands as they rubbed up his torso and then scraped down, fingernails biting into the muscles of his back. Hips stuttered and then met him with a mouthwatering slap of skin on skin. He licked at the blood of a particularly deep scratch, mouth closing over the stinging welt.

          “More, Hannibal, _please_!” Ever one to oblige, Hannibal shoved at Will’s lower back with one hand while he jerked his hips further up, knees going wider for deeper penetration. Forced to let go of his handhold, Will shoved at the pillows, knocking them out of his way so he could grip the bedsheets and then press his hands against the bottom of the heavy mahogany, overwhelmed by sensation. Hannibal fisted his aching length, stroking hard and fast, matching his own thrusts. It didn’t take long for Will to be completely taken over, intense pleasure rocketing through him in a burst of color and sound, Hannibal following closely behind.

          Gasping for air and humming with satisfaction, they lay together on the wrecked bed, limbs intertwined despite the sticky mess. “I think I could get used to waking up like that,” Will said on a breathy laugh, stretching his arms up over his head in a decidedly feline manner. Hannibal pulled him closer, rolling him half under his bulk as he burrowed his face into the cooling flesh of his neck.

          “Good,” he murmured and pressed lips to the underside of Will’s jaw. It was on the tip of his tongue to ask the young man not to leave, that he wanted both him and little Mina to come and stay and never go back to their home in Wolf Trap. He bit it back just in time. None of them were ready for that yet. Not. Yet.

          “What time is it,” Will asked and the moment was gone. Seeing that it was still early and they had a while before Mina was awake, they moved into the shower. Soap and hot water soothed aching muscles and indulged Hannibal’s need to keep Will next to him for as long as possible. It was like a creeping addiction, the more he had the brilliant boy, the more he wanted him. It was dangerous on so many levels. In all his years he had never let anyone under his skin so deep. The last person he had loved-

          Hannibal froze as the thought seemed to take him over, a cold shiver ran down his spine and he reflectively gathered Will close. As the hot water fell around them, he was nearly overwhelmed by the knowledge that he truly _loved_ someone for the first time since his dear Mischa. His embrace was tight and nearly desperate, holding broad shoulders and torso in a firm line against his chest. Face buried in Will’s neck, he tried to process what he was feeling. The last time he had loved someone, it had ended in cold and fear and blood and pain.

          “Hannibal?” Of course, Will knew there was something different. Not that there was anything truly _wrong_ , no that was the problem. Everything was _right_ and irrational and muddled and suddenly much more complicated than he had ever wanted for his life. Fear, unlike anything he had experienced before shot through him like a lightning bolt.

          “Shh, give me a moment,” he whispered unsteadily against taut skin, closing his eyes against the swelling tide. Will fell silent, but gripped Hannibal’s arms where they held him still. After several minutes, he pulled free and turned in the circle of the embrace. One glance into the honey eyes was enough to make him melt. One glance was all he allowed himself when they were both so vulnerable.

          “You know, you once told me that you weren’t going anywhere, that it was okay to let myself go and to trust you,” Will whispered, moving in so that they were standing cheek to cheek, his mouth near Hannibal’s ear. “It’s okay to do the same. I’m not going to leave you. Not willingly, ever.”

          “You don’t know what you’re promising.” His accent was thick with emotion and he fought violently with the urge to just let go and push his way out of the bathroom and away. He needed distance to put himself back together, to rebuild the walls that had protected him for so many years. There would be a time when Will _would_ turn from him, it was inevitable. He had already thought of the eventuality; of that moment that would come in a spectacular show of blood and pain. He hadn’t lied when he said that he would never turn from his love, from Will _or_ Mina- they were in his life for better or for worse.

          “Maybe I don’t,” Will said, still soft, but his grip iron as he clasped him close. “Maybe I have no clue what is really going on in your head or your heart, and maybe that’s what drew me in. But that’s not what is keeping me. I have never felt this way about another human being, Hannibal. My daughter is my life; from the moment she first drew breath, she was my reason for existing- my validation, and my very sanity. I trust you with her. I trust you with me.”

          Tension drained from him in a rush, making his body limp. Will widened his stance, took his weight, and pressed their mouths together in a beautiful, desperate line. He trusted Will as well, more than he should, more than he wanted to. And that, Hannibal thought dimly as he let the other man caress and soothe him, was more frightening than anything else.

 

*~*~*

           The walk up to the string shop, Chordophone, to interview Tobias Budge was silent and tense. Will ignored the stoic local cops that had been assigned to accompany him, their irritation evident even in their silence. They hadn’t said anything out of line to him, but it had been obvious that they weren’t necessarily keen on escorting a federal agent when the case had been taken away from them. _A fed should be qualified to go on his fucking own without a goddamn babysitter._ Will bit back a sigh and pushed his glasses further up his nose, taking the lead as they entered the quiet store.

*~*~*

 

          “Nine.” Franklyn Froidevous waved his fingers in the air, looking like he was on the verge of a tearful breakdown. “Nine times. I can count on two hands the number of times I’ve been dumped by a psychiatrist.”

          Hannibal calmly looked over toward his notebook, resting on the table next to his chair, then back at the increasingly irate patient. He’d known this wouldn’t be pleasant, but it had become glaringly obvious that he needed to do something about the growing obsession his patient had been showing. It had come to a head when the younger male had asked about Mina, inquiring about where the girl was going for preschool, fishing for information for his sister’s child, so they could share a classroom. Enough was enough.

          “I’m sorry, Franklyn, but I think you should see another doctor.”

          Franklyn snorted and all but rolled his eyes. “So, you’re giving me a referral?”

          “Yes, I am.”

          “ _You_ were a referral!”

          Hannibal maintained his professional demeanor despite the raised voice directed at him, though irritation surged at the lack of grace shown by his soon to be former patient. “I am also a part of the problem. I have become a focus of attention, a means of distraction rather than progression. I want what is best for you, as a patient, and I believe Dr. Thomlin may be able to help you regain your foothold.” The fact that Dr. Thomlin was in his early seventies and was very rooted in classic psychology was only the first of many advantages Hannibal could see in the referral. In choosing someone that was far out of the social schematics that Franklyn nearly desperately desired to orbit, and someone even farther out of their age range, the unhealthy attachment may not have the opportunity to form.

          “You lost respect for me because of what happened with Tobias, didn’t you? Because I refused to report him.”

          “Report him for what?” A new, flat voice interrupted the final session, causing the two men to look at the office door that had just been silently opened and closed behind the interloper.

          “Tobias?” Franklyn stood and stared, losing the ruddy color out of his cheeks as he was faced with the glowering figure of his friend. A friend that had blood pouring from a hole in the tip of his ear, the flood soaking the collar of his shirt and most of his vest. Hannibal’s nose twitched with the smell of gunpowder, blood, and a noxious mix of chemicals.

          “I came to say goodbye, Franklyn.”

          “What do you mean, goodbye?” Dimly, Hannibal heard the exchange, his focus on the dull gleam of mania in Tobias’s dark eyes. Panic was starting in the shorter man as he realized his friend was bleeding and his words turned to barely contained fight or flight.

          “I just killed two men.” Hannibal’s world tilted, a mere second of unreality. Rage blossomed in his body, starting in his stomach and moving through the rest of him like a tingle of cold electricity. There was a background humming. Will hadn’t told him when he was going to be interviewing the shop owner. It was left up to Jack Crawford. His lips twitched with the urge to peel back in a snarl. The unit chief had better be one of the men on the autopsy table from the killing, or Hannibal would put him on one sooner rather than later. It would be a merciful thing for the other man if he were already dead.

          “The police came to question me about the murder and brought their federal agent friend. How does it feel to have sent your own lover to be slaughtered, Dr. Lecter? It felt good to slice into him, to have his blood on my hands.”

          Franklyn started speaking, glancing at Hannibal once as if to get reassurance that he was doing the right thing, before earnestly trying to talk his friend down from what he saw as a homicidal psychotic break. After a couple minutes of inane rambling that neither one of the killers actually heard, Hannibal stepped in, placed his hands on either side of Franklyn’s head, and twisted.

          The snapping of bones and crushing of cartilage echoed in the room and they watched as he crumpled to the ground, finally silent. “I was looking forward to that.” Tobias sounded annoyed, his face blank but his eyes furious.

          “Merely saved you the trouble,” Hannibal answered, not even trying to keep his human visage in place as the taller male dropped his jacket and unfurled the piano wire.

*~*~*

          Jack Crawford came through the door not too long after the paramedics. Hannibal was staring at the floor, eyes dull and face blank as he reigned in the urge to go through the room and slaughter every man and woman invading his inner sanctum. Hand gripping his thigh where he had been stabbed with his own letter opener, he ground fingertips into the wound to keep his emotions from overflowing. He wanted to know about Will. He wanted to go to him, to see him, to touch him, no matter what had become of…

          “Dr. Lecter,” Jack started, hesitating when Hannibal looked up at him, blood still staining the corner of his mouth and bruising already starting at his temple and eye.

          “Where is Will? Tobias said he had killed two men and implied that Will was one of them. Where is he?” It wasn’t quite interrupting, since Jack had stopped talking. Rudeness would have been forgiven under the circumstances regardless, Hannibal not having it in him to really care. Guilt hung heavy on the massive shoulders of the fed and Hannibal felt his entire body tense for attack, his lips twitching into an angry, thin line. Avoiding the therapist’s gaze, Jack didn’t see the dangerous glint starting in tawny eyes, the color changing in the dim winter light.

          “Will’s been taken to the hospital. Budge stabbed him before Will managed to fire his weapon. He’s on his way into surgery right now, but the doctors say he’s going to make it.”

          Hannibal bent forward with the force of his relief, cradling his head in his hand. He felt nauseous, all of the fight draining out of him in a sick rush. He needed to go. Ignoring Jack, he stood up and limped painfully toward his coat rack, gritting teeth at the pain of pulling his jacket on with the bandaged slice around his bicep. He needed to get to the hospital, he needed to talk to the doctors and make sure they knew who they were dealing with and the consequences if they slipped and his partner didn’t make it.

          He needed to see Will for himself, to touch the young man, to feel his pulse strong and firm under his skin. That overwhelming desire made it easier to ignore Crawford’s blustering, crowding presence; easier to ignore the agony of his own injuries. Once he realized that Hannibal wasn’t listening, Jack insisted on driving them to Baltimore General. The better to question the two men at once, he thought bitterly. He wanted to push the issue and drive himself, but stopped as he realized the extent of his own limitations. Physically, he _had_ taken a beating, had been stabbed in the thigh, and Tobias had tried to slice off his arm with piano wire. He truly shouldn’t be driving.

          The moment he stepped into the brightly lit halls of the hospital, he breathed in the familiar smell of antiseptic and sickness, and immediately moved to the first person he recognized as having any sort of pull. “Dr. Lecter! Dear Lord, are you all right? What happened?”

          “Dr. Leslie, I’m fine. A young man was brought in by ambulance earlier and I was told that he was in surgery- knife wound. I don’t know much more than that. Will Graham. Where can I find him?”

          The woman, a petite redhead with a quick and demure smile and a penchant for dark, solid colored scrubs, frowned and gestured for him to sit. Her wholesome, pretty appearance had been a bit of a setback for her when he had still been working the emergency unit, but like he’d always thought, she’d forged ahead with an admirable determination. He had always respected her intelligence and quick action in a crisis, something that had endeared her to him where not many else had. “Take a seat and I’ll check. Do you know what time he was brought in and from where?”

          “Downtown Baltimore, and around one,” Jack supplied, coming to hover next to the chair the young doctor had pulled out for him. Hannibal tried to hide his bristling at the close proximity. There was very little left of his patience, or of his infamous control. It was all he could do to keep his scathing words to himself and remember that he had plenty of time to _carefully_ plan his next move against the BAU unit chief. Acting now would be ill advised, though completely satisfying.

          When she came back, Dr. Leslie held a tiny container with two small white pills and a larger paper cup with fresh water. She handed them to Hannibal with a gentle touch and said, “He’s on the fourth floor, room five-sixty-seven. CCU for observation for right now, but he came out of surgery like a champ about an hour ago. Dr. Rufalski was the attending surgeon, Dr. Lecter. I can have him paged so he can meet you up there, if you’d like.”

          “Thank you, Alice,” he said, and some of his relief must have shown in his voice, because she patted his shoulder softly.

          “No problem, Doc. Why don’t you come back down to see me when you have a chance to see to your boy? I’d like to get a look at your injuries. It doesn’t look like you got decent treatment, yourself.” Sharp as always, of course she had seen and catalogued his movements.

          “I will,” he promised and handed back the empty cups before he painfully rose and moved to the elevators near the end of the hall. She earned more points for not insisting on a wheelchair, or prying for more information. He had always liked her strict, no nonsense demeanor. If she needed to know, someone would tell her, she had always said with a grace befitting someone ten years her senior. She had enough stories behind those lovely brown eyes, she didn’t need to borrow any more.

          When he came to the walls ensconcing the critical care unit, he stopped and placed a steadying hand on the doorframe. The doors were open, but he didn’t move for a moment, trying to piece some of his mental barriers back together. He needed to see Will, but he didn’t want him to see how affected he was by all of this. He felt Crawford come up behind him, still standing too close.

          “I would rather you wait out here for now, Agent Crawford.” There. That was far more civilized than he had hoped for. There was a stiffening of the form hovering behind him, but he straightened his aching body and walked through the doors and into the carefully controlled section of the hospital that housed those closest to death.

          He forced himself to stop at the nursing desk, relieved to see that Dr. Leslie had been true to her word. Dr. Rufalski, a short, slender man with heavily graying long hair pulled back into a low ponytail and a matching goatee, was quietly conferencing with a much taller female nurse. Black eyes framed by a pair of ancient silver rimmed glasses shone solemnly over at him when he entered, his ragged appearance commanding attention.

          “Well, Dr. Lecter, I never thought I would see you in such a state,” the older doctor commented in warm tones that thankfully lacked any sort of pity or softness. Either would have been another shot at Hannibal’s already thin shield. “William is right through here. Once you have a chance to reassure yourself that he’s alive and well, I can tell you the particulars.”

          Rufalski was another doctor he highly respected, even if he didn’t entirely care for his overly familiar manner. None of that mattered, however, when he stepped through the privacy curtains surrounding Will’s bed. The young man looked thin and drawn, tubes and wires hooked up to various spots, the machines beeping diligently at his bedside. His heart was steady and slow, his oxygen level and blood pressure good. The two day scruff on his cheeks was dark against his pale, pale skin, his thick eyelashes making even darker crescents under his eyes.

          Hannibal felt his legs shake. When he was close enough to touch, he slid his hand unsteadily into Will’s and felt the warmth of his blood flowing under the skin. Ignoring everything else, he lowered his head to Will’s chest and heard the thud, thud, thud of his heart.

*~*~*

 


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You guys are amazing and I love all of you! This took a while to get out cause I was kinda blocked on how to get it moving again. Brain freeze of the literary kind. Thanks again for everyone reading this and showing so much support. :) Short, but it'll get things moving again. Now, onward!

*~*~*

          Beverly marched through the hallway of the hospital, her boot heels clicking on the pristine white linoleum. Her dark hair swung in her ponytail and her face was set in grim lines as she came through the doors of the CCU without bothering to use the ancient in-house phone set on the wall. Visiting was for family only, but she knew that Will didn’t have any blood family to protest. And she needed to speak to either him or Hannibal. Immediately.

          When she came around the corner, her steps slowed and she came to a stop just outside the glass room Will was lying in. Hannibal was sitting in the chair beside the bed, looking awful, one hand gripping Will’s, and the other holding his forehead. He looked like he’d been in a brawl and hadn’t bothered to clean up after. Hell, it was pretty accurate based on what she’d heard tell of the scene earlier. Despite her own worry, she felt a smirk turn her lips up at the corners. As soon as he was awake and aware, her friend had some serious dishing to do. He’d been holding out on her.

          Purposely making more noise before she came in the room, Beverly watched as Dr. Lecter straightened up and looked at her with a carefully blank expression. His bruised face was more haggard than she had ever seen it, and the dark, protective look in his normally tame eyes made her suppress a shiver. “Dr. Lecter,” she said in greeting, knowing that despite her friendship with Will, she wasn’t quite on close friendly terms with his lover. “How’s he doing?”

          “He’s going to be fine,” Hannibal told her, relaxing marginally, but not enough to slump back into the chair. He never let go of Will’s hand. “I just spoke to his doctor. Budge stabbed him under the arm, up and into his shoulder. It ripped through the joint and lodged in the rotator cuff. He lost a lot of blood and they had to go in to repair arterial damage. There is going to be more surgery required and physical therapy, but he is going to be fine.”

          Beverly sighed and rubbed at her own eyes tiredly. “He’s going to be a bitch of a patient,” she muttered with a shake of her head, but her heart squeezed suddenly with the relief of it. “But it’s worth it to still have his cranky ass alive and kicking.”

          “Indeed,” Hannibal managed tiredly. “I imagine there was another reason you were here besides checking in on our Will?”

          Beverly blinked and nodded, leaning against the doorframe. As good as she was with the clinical environment of hospitals and morgues, she wasn’t really fond of seeing her loved ones in said environments. It brought back bad memories of seeing her father die of lung cancer. Will was going to be okay, she reminded herself grimly, he was just in here for post-op observation. He wasn’t dying. “What’s your plan for Mina?”

          Hannibal blinked, “I am going to be bringing her home with me, as per Will’s wishes. We spoke of this before, just in case. She has a bedroom already prepared in my home, and she is comfortable with me. I have already spoken to her babysitter and she is going to be keeping Mina overnight. I will be going to pick her up in the morning.”

          “You might want to tell Jack and Dr. Bloom about that,” Beverly suggested, hands in her pockets. “They don’t know about your arrangement and Bloom was making noise about taking the kid home with her.”

          Hannibal’s eyes flashed and Beverly felt a chill go through her. “Tell ya what,” she said, trying to disarm the tension with a trademark smile. “I’ll go pick up the rugrat for tonight, she knows me and she likes me better than the good Dr. Bloom. I can explain a little of what happened to her daddy, we can have a good night of cartoons and pancakes, and it’ll buy you some time. If you show up looking like that and almost boiling over, she’s not going to have a good time of it.”

          He was silent for a couple long minutes, thinking about his options. She had a point. As much as he wanted to go to Mina and make sure she was safe, Ms. Katz was right. He nodded finally. “Very well. If Will wakes, I will inform him of Mina’s whereabouts. Thank you.”

          “No problem,” Beverly said, straightening with a soft smile. “I’ll deal with Dr. Bloom and Jack. I think you’re probably ready to tear into the dynamic duo as it is. I’ll speak with the nurses and ask that no one else is let in. Will might not be awake, but we all know how sensitive he is to everything. There’s no need to subject him to anymore negativity than we absolutely have to.”

          “Thank you.” Hannibal was genuinely grateful. He watched her nod and leave the room, stopping to speak to the nurse behind the desk. He hadn’t thought to block everyone else from entering, and he should have. It was within his power to insist, as it was protocol anyway. The phones on the outside of the doors were there for a reason, and his history with the hospital was such that he still held a bit of sway.

          The male nurse looked a bit awed when dealing with Beverly and it very nearly brought a smile to Hannibal’s face. The young man stared after the form fitting jeans and swinging ponytail as she left with a tap of short, unpolished nails on the counter and a husky, “Thanks.” Hannibal was glad that Will had Beverly as a friend. She wasn’t exactly the type he would have chosen for himself, of course, she was too brash and blunt for his tastes. But she was loyal, intelligent, and intuitive in her own way. She had been raised by a mostly traditional family, which meant she was respectful when it when it was due. However, there was a core of strength that he found admirable. There were times when he wondered how much the young woman could take until she shattered. Where would be the best place to slide the scalpel to elicit the most tears? At what point would she start to beg?

          Now was not one of those times, however. He turned his attention back to Will and watched him breathe. He had yet to awaken, and it had been nearly four hours since Hannibal had arrived and taken up his spot at the bedside. Dr. Leslie had come up to tend to his injuries when he hadn’t returned by the time her shift was nearly over, taking the extra time to make sure he was all right. The stab wound on his thigh had required fourteen stitches, the slice on his arm required eighteen and a tetanus shot, she’d cleaned the cuts on his face, and gave him an ice pack for his bruised eye and temple.

          All the while, she’d kept her chatter to a minimum and the former surgeon had been reminded once again of why Dr. Alice Leslie had been his favorite resident doctor when he had been working full time at the hospital. When she was finished, she’d given him a soft smile, squeezed his hand, and left without much preamble. Before she had gone, he’d said his honest thanks and had gotten a, “No problem, Doc. We miss you around here. Take care of yourself.”

          He sincerely doubted that her ‘we’ included much more than herself and a very minor handful of others, but he appreciated the thought. He brought Will’s hand up to his lips, pressing the cold fingers firmly as he wished for the young man to open his eyes. Just because he hadn’t awakened yet, it didn’t mean that something was wrong. It just meant that he needed to heal. Hannibal retook his seat and rested his aching head on the mattress beside Will’s hip, closing his eyes momentarily.

*~*~*

          Mina stared at Beverly, her huge blue eyes moist with tears and her lower lip quivering. “Where’s my Daddy? I don’t want to go with you.”

          So this is how it was gonna be. Beverly crouched down on the floor to be closer to Mina’s level and smiled. “Mins, your daddy’s okay, he just needs to rest where other people can watch him and make sure he stays okay. We’re gonna go see him tomorrow.” Okay, so she _hoped_ she’d be able to take the little girl to see Will, just so that she could stop being so worried.

          “But for tonight, you wanna come to my house for a sleepover? We can watch whatever movie you want and I’ll make peanut butter pancakes for dinner. Milo should be ready for a walk when we get there too, so we can take him around the block. What do you say?”

          Mina didn’t look convinced in the slightest, her brows lowered ominously over familiar stormy orbs. Not even the mention of Beverly’s small terrier lifted the dark clouds from her face. “Where’s Dr. Hannibal?” If she couldn’t have her daddy, she’d go for the next best thing. She liked Beverly, but her tummy was sick in the way it was when something bad had happened.

          “He’s staying with your daddy, baby,” Beverly said and Mina knew something was very wrong. Tears spilled over, running down her cheeks and her chest got tight with the urge to sob. “Hey, don’t look like that, kid. How about I call him and you can talk to him?”

          Mina nodded miserably, hugging her small arms around herself as she watched Beverly pull her cell phone out of her jacket pocket. Virginia stroked her hair and she looked up at her babysitter with swimming eyes. “It’s okay, Mina,” she murmured and picked her up gently, allowing the girl to wrap her arms around her neck. If it came down to it, she’d keep the little one overnight until Hannibal or Will could come for her like they’d originally planned. Knowing that Mina’s father was in some form of law enforcement, Virginia had been mentally prepared for something like this to happen eventually.

          “Dr. Lecter? Mina’d like to talk to you for a minute,” Beverly was saying, then smiled and handed her smart phone to the little girl. It looked huge against her face as she took it, leaning out from her babysitter to better handle the piece of plastic.

          “Dr. Hannibal, where’s my daddy?” Her voice was rough with worry and tears, but admirably strident as she demanded answers. She listened for a minute, then nodded. “B-but, he’s okay?”

          Beverly felt her chest get very full at the frightened vulnerability and remembered the blinding pain when she’d been faced with losing her own father in her very early twenties. She could only imagine what it was like to be Mina’s age with no other family to step in for support. She was suddenly very grateful that Dr. Lecter was a part of Will and Mina’s lives. If anything, Mina wouldn’t have to ever worry about being without a parental figure if something permanent happened to her dad.

          There was a bit more back and forth conversation where Hannibal worked his magic and calmed Mina’s fears enough so that she was comfortable going with Beverly on the promise that he would be to pick her up first thing in the morning. “Okay, Dr. Hannibal,” Mina whispered finally. “Bye.” Then she handed the phone back to Beverly.

          “I want to watch Ariel.” Beverly relaxed and smiled, reaching out her hand to take Mina’s. This, she could handle. After the tense phone conversation she’d had with Alana Bloom earlier, she was glad to be getting on the road for her home. She wouldn’t put it past the other woman to come out to pick up Mina anyway, believing her abilities better suited for taking care of a traumatized child. Nothing against Alana, but Beverly had to disagree with the notion that the girl was anything but normal. She was four years old and her only parent was hurt. Treating it as anything different would make things worse.

          “Done,” Beverly stated. “And you do want pancakes, right? You haven’t been turned into a gourmet, have you?”

          Mina wrinkled her nose. “Gourmet? I’m not a fairy, Beverly, I don’t have any wings.”

 

*~*~*


	13. Chapter 13

*~*~*

            Will woke up in shades of gray, black, and dull, throbbing pain. The fogginess and antiseptic smell of a hospital was a familiar reminder that things must have gone horribly wrong at some point. He could hear the whirring and beeping of machines and the low murmur of voices. His chest was heavy, the ache radiating from his shoulder and arm and for a moment his stomach dropped at the thought that he might be back in New Orleans, six years prior. Faces flashed in his mind’s eye, Lexie, Mina, Alana, Beverly, Jack… Hannibal. Were they all in his head? Did he just dream them up in a delusion of pain and desperate wanting for something normal?

            He heard the telltale sound of fabric shifting and inhaled deep, breath hitching as the new but familiar pain shot through his shoulder and chest. He knew from experience that painkillers can only do so much. “There you are.” Will wanted to weep at the deep, distinctive rumble of Hannibal’s Lithuanian tones. The backs of his eyelids stung but he was too overwhelmed to care. He cracked his eyes open and was greeted with the welcome sight of his partner’s battered, concerned face. “I was beginning to worry.”

            Will opened his mouth to speak, but found that his mouth was too dry to form words. Hannibal seemed to know what he needed and picked up a cup from the bedside. He used the small plastic spoon to scoop out a few ice chips, bringing the welcome moisture to Will’s lips. The cold soothed his throat and after swallowing a couple times, he tried speaking again. “M… Mina?”

            “She is with Beverly.” Hannibal smiled at the predictable question and ran his fingers through Will’s wild mane of hair, then touched his face gently. “Safe and sound.”

            “Are you all right,” Will asked next, his blue eyes sharp despite the heavy drugs running through his system. He catalogued the facial bruising, the cut lip and the ginger way the doctor was moving, as if he were hurting in different places. The light, wry curve of Hannibal’s lips was crooked from the cut on his lower lip. “What the hell happened? This feels… it feels like I’ve been stabbed again.”

            “That’s because you _were_ stabbed again, Will. Tobias Budge attacked and killed the two police officers that had accompanied you, then…” Hannibal didn’t have to manufacture the upset that made his voice falter as he started to tell his lover of the events that had nearly cost them their lives. He stopped talking and looked down at his fingers that were clutching Will’s hand that wasn’t hooked up to the IV drip.

            Will squeezed his hand as firmly as he was able and tugged at it. “Come here, Dr. Lecter,” he murmured and was rewarded when Hannibal leaned in to press their mouths together. He could feel the fine tremors going through the powerful frame and he realized that it had been a much more frightening experience than he had first thought. He gripped the back of Hannibal’s neck, holding him there when it seemed the other man was going to pull back.

            He pressed his lips to Hannibal’s forehead and waited until he relaxed, leaning against the uninjured part of his chest and the bed. “I’m okay, Hannibal. I’m a lot harder to kill than I look.”

            “That is not an amusing or comforting statement,” the doctor stated flatly and Will sighed, holding his breath as pain flared.

            “I know,” he murmured, a little breathlessly.

           “You’re in pain.”

            “Yeah.”

            “I’ll get a nurse.” Hannibal went to move away, but he stopped when Will tightened his grip again, not wanting to hurt him more.

            “No. Please, I don’t want to let you go yet. I don’t want...” Will swallowed hard and closed his eyes. “When I first woke up, I… I thought for a moment that the last six years were all in my head; that I was still in New Orleans, just waking up from getting stabbed the first time.”

            “Shh,” Hannibal soothed again, stroking Will’s cheek, pulling back just enough so that he could look down into his face. “I’m not going anywhere. I thought I had lost you, that you were dead. Tobias… when he burst into my office and implied he had killed you… I felt my heart stop.”

            “I’m not going anywhere, doctor,” Will promised softly. “I have too much to live for now, and it’ll take a lot more than a bright eyed amateur to take me out permanently.”

            “It was too close.” Hannibal’s voice cracked and he bowed his head, bringing Will’s hand up to rest on his forehead, successfully hiding his face as it was showing too much. It felt like his mask was slipping, cracking in a wave of pure emotion that was so uncomfortably real it was nearly paralyzing. Exhaustion, fear, and physical pain had mixed with a relief so profound that it had stripped nearly all of his iron control. For the second time in the last few days, Hannibal felt overwhelmed by something so significant. The words trembled on his tongue, waiting for a microscopic nudge to send them spilling out.

            The moment was lost when the curtains swished open without any warning, startling Will, who grit his teeth against the pain of the sudden movement. Hannibal felt a cleansing rush of irritation that bordered on anger. This was something he could handle, it was familiar and it wasn’t hard to process. “Look who’s awake,” the nurse chirped happily, her smile bright in the dimly lit room. It was late, nearing ten and she hadn’t even the decency to moderate her tones to a more acceptable volume.

            Will trembled under Hannibal’s touch, easily unnerved in his vulnerable state. When the woman, a tall middle aged blonde, came closer, he could see her eyes tighten with disapproval at their closeness. Her lips pursed, but she didn’t comment, just bustled in to check the machines. “Blood pressure good, heart rate is a little high, though. Would you like some more pain meds, Mr. Graham?”

            “No,” Will answered, eyeing her warily as she reached to check the IV site, making sure that everything was the way it was supposed to be. “I would like to see the doctor in charge, though. I nee-…”

            She cut him off, “Your doctor for tonight is Dr. Thomslin, she’ll be by at her rounds a little later, I’ll make a note that you’re awake.” She eyed Hannibal, expression going pinched, “This area is family only, so I’m afraid that you’ll have to leave.”

            “He is my family,” Will stated flatly, eyeing her with annoyance.

            “Mr. Graham, I assure you that I am not naïve, nor am I stupid. This area is immediate family only and I will not ask again.” All of her friendliness was leaking away and her lips were pursed as she looked pointedly at their linked hands.

            “Go ahead and call security, ma’am,” Will told her, his eyes glinting with anger. “But please, call your supervisor while you’re at it. I can assure you that Dr. Lecter will be staying right where he is.”

            “I will take care of it, darling,” Hannibal murmured, sounding amused. Inside he was seething, seeing how pale and tense Will had become. The younger man was gripping his hand tightly, trying to keep himself grounded despite the pain he was in. He leaned in and kissed Will’s temple, lingering when he knew it would bother the obviously homophobic nurse. “I need to make a phone call. I will be right back in.”

            “I don’t want you taking care of me,” Will told the woman bluntly as she turned to resume checking his vitals. “I request a different nurse.”

            “I’m sorry you feel that way, Mr. Graham, but I’m afraid you don’t have a choice on who is on the floor,” the woman responded with a nasty smile. “I’ll make sure to make this as painless as possible.” With that, she adjusted his pillows with an abrupt, sadistic jerk that made him reel in pain as it jarred his chest and shoulder. Unable to speak around the agony, Will fought back nausea and tried not to envision her spit-roasted on an open bonfire.

            “I’m afraid that he does,” a new voice entered the room just in time to witness the aftermath of her actions. Dr. Rufalski, covering for another physician, had come across Hannibal in the hallways of the CCU and overheard some of the conversation he’d been having with the lead supervisor on shift. He’d decided to step in and at least see if he could smooth over some of the upset. He had stepped into the room just in time to witness her blatant disregard for the patient’s injuries. His mouth thinned to a barely visible line. “And I’m afraid that you’re on suspension effective immediately. Go wait in the hallway.”

            Hannibal had the satisfaction of seeing her face blanch white before she hustled past him on her way out the door. He had to clench his hands into fists to stop himself from snapping her neck as she passed. _All in good time._ Dr. Rufalski rushed to the bed, immediately checking Will’s shoulder for signs of irritation at the surgery site. He fiddled with the IV at Will’s left hand and injected a dose of what Hannibal had already confirmed was morphine. The change was near immediate, the younger man losing the tension that had started creeping in as the prior dosage had waned.

            “I don’t want any more drugs,” Will muttered, his head relaxing back against the pillow wearily. He looked at Hannibal with heavy-lidded eyes. “I don’t want to sleep. I might not come back to now.”

            “I will be here when you wake,” Hannibal promised, sliding up next to the bed again. He kissed Will’s forehead and watched as the tension drained out into a drugged sleep.

*~*~*

            Hannibal could hear Mina’s screams from the hallway outside of Beverly’s apartment. His chest gave a strange lurching twist at the unhappy sound. To Beverly’s credit, she had called him the moment it was apparent she couldn’t handle the ongoing tantrum. The sound of his phone had jerked him out of a restless sleep in the cot the nurses had set up for him near Will’s bed. He had bit back a snarl and answered, the sound of Beverly’s ever calm voice nearly overwhelmed by the little girl’s cries.

            It was four-thirty in the morning. Apparently Mina had awakened from a nightmare and in the utter chaos, no one had informed Beverly on how to approach the little one after a night terror. The poor thing had been inconsolable for what felt like hours, wanting her daddy and not understanding why he couldn’t be there with her. Now the apartment door was opened by a frazzled and grateful Beverly.

            “Come in, come in,” she said and it was almost gratifying to see the usually laid back tech nearly in tears with anxiety. “I tried just about everything and none of it is working.”

            Hannibal ignored her and walked straight to the living room where Mina was lying face down on the couch, her little hands fisted in the blanket she had carried with her out from the bedroom. He knelt down on the floor and gently touched her shoulder. She jolted hard and choked on her own indrawn breath. “Mina, _vaikas_ , it’s all right. It’s just me.”

            The moment she heard his voice, she turned her head and fixed him with bright red, watery blue eyes. Her face was scarlet and wet and he knew that her head must have been aching from her upset. As her choking subsided, wracking sobs replaced the wails that had accompanied his arrival. “D-Dr. Ha-annibal,” she hiccupped and reached out an exhausted arm.

            “It’s all right, Miss Mina,” he soothed again and then pulled her off the couch and into his arms. She curled up and buried her face in his neck, her skin too hot and moist for his liking. He cuddled her tight, murmuring whatever came to his mind that might ease even a bit of her upset. “It’s all right. Your daddy is fine, _kūdikių_ , he’s being taken care of and he’s safe.”

            “The bad man tried to take him away,” she whispered hoarsely. She instinctively knew what had happened. Hannibal sighed into her hair and stroked her back.

            “Yes,” he answered, keeping his voice low and even, “But the bad man can’t hurt him anymore.”

            “You stopped him,” she whispered and he closed his eyes, nodding against the top of her head. “I- I dreamed that h-h-he hurt m-my daddy and then h-hurt you.”

            “I’m all right as well, Mina,” he assured her and she hiccupped again, pulling away to look into his bruised face. Her young gaze felt far too acute for her years, the cerulean orbs cataloguing and making sure he wasn’t lying to her. Then she let out a shuddering sigh and eased back into his embrace.

            “C-an I see my d-daddy now?”

            He wasn’t sure if it was the right time, but Hannibal knew that short of sedating her, there was no other option. She had been through enough trauma already without adding even a low-dose drug. “Yes, little one, we can go see your daddy.”

            With that reassurance, she slipped back into sleep.

*~*~*

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you guys sooooooo much for all the awesomeness you've sent my way. :D Major apologies for taking so long to get back to this. I've been having a huge problem focusing on my writing. Hopefully I can keep going in a way that doesn't disappoint. According to an online translator, kūdikių means baby, and vaikas is child. No clue if this is accurate, but it's all good ;)


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Holy crap, I'm so sorry this took so long to update! Wow... o_o I've been having a really hard time with my writing lately, and it's not just with this fic, it's with all of it. But... I'm trying :D Thanks for hanging in there with me. I'll try a bit harder to keep it coming.

 

*~*~*

            Hannibal managed to wait to take Mina to see Will until nearly nine. She had fallen into a deep sleep and he hadn’t wanted to disturb her, instead taking her home and tucking her into her bed and leaving Evangeline to curl up next to her as a furry nightmare deterrent. He had then left her door open and gone to shower away the last two days.

            As the water cascaded down his aching body, he forced himself to process the emotions the events of the last week had wrought in him. It was dangerous to allow this softness to come into his psyche, to allow it to grow and fester like an infection coloring his thoughts and actions. He had never been subject to caring what others felt, or how he could change his own life to accommodate their needs. He found himself unable to think of his life without Will and Mina in it and that unnerved him. He was not a man used to fear, and he didn’t appreciate the feeling. He had allowed himself to fall under the spell of having what had been long denied him. Family, and the traitorous emotions that came with it.

            Closing his eyes and leaning into the hot spray of the shower, Hannibal thought about his young lover and pictured Will’s face when- not if, but when- he pieced things together. How far would the devotion and loyalty Will felt toward him go when faced with what the righteous side of the other man felt was an abomination? When he realized that he had shared his precious daughter with someone that he was actively pursuing as the Chesapeake Ripper, one of the more prolific serial killers the BAU had ever attempted to apprehend? Where once Hannibal had been ready for such an event, had even anticipated it with a dark thrill that had been missing from his life for so long, now he was near desperate to avoid it. Before Will, there hadn’t been much of a challenge to his hunts, no real threat. From the moment he had laid eyes on the skittish and impossible man, Hannibal had known that he was facing someone that could be his equal.

            He rinsed the soap off his back and stood there for another few precious minutes, pondering his options. He had placed more than one scenario into effect, just waiting to decide where to go. His mouth firming into a grim line, he took a breath and shut off the water to the shower. It was unfortunate, but he had to bring Will in tight to him, and he had to do it soon or he ran the risk of losing everything. But first, he needed to get Will healthy and whole. That was a priority above all else.

 

*~*~*

 

           “Daddy?” Will was awakened by the tremulous sound of his daughter’s voice. He struggled up from the grips of whatever pain medication the nurse had injected into his IV when he wasn’t looking. After adamantly telling everyone who listened that he did _not_ want pain medication, they’d waited until he was asleep and administered it anyway. He wasn’t quite sure that was entirely legal, but considering the pain that edged in despite the heavy opiates, he knew making a fuss right now would be useless and self-defeating.

            “Mina-mine,” he said, happy that his voice didn’t slur. She was in Hannibal’s arms, the older man’s arm around her back as a solid, comforting line. Her fingers were gripping the edges of his casual sweater as if frightened to let go. “There you are.”

            She squirmed in the universal signal to be let down, but Hannibal tightened his grip and kept her where she was. He carried her to the bed and set her down on the edge of it, making sure to be on the opposite side of Will’s injury. He murmured softly, “Remember what we talked about, Miss Mina.”

            Mina nodded solemnly and turned to face her father and told him, “Dr. Hannibal said you’re hurt and I shouldn’t be too rough.”

            “Yeah,” Will said, smiling, “But I can still hug you.” He reached out an arm and she relaxed, gently moving into his arms. She curled up against his uninjured side and chest. She buried her face in the side of his neck and he immediately felt her trembling.

            He looked up at Hannibal, who soothed a hand down her back tenderly. The doctor smiled softly and bent down to kiss the top of Will’s head. “She’s been very worried about you.”

            “Honey, I’m okay,” Will said, rubbing his chin on the top of her head. “I’m okay.”

            “The bad man tried to take you away,” she whimpered and his heart broke at the feel of tears soaking into his skin. These were quiet tears, intense in a way that her other tears weren’t. Her shoulders hitched with a near silent sob and he held her as close to him as he could. “He tried to take D-Dr. Ha-annibal too.”

            “But Hannibal stopped him, baby,” Will told her. “He can’t hurt anyone anymore. We’re both okay, and we’re both safe.”

            She shook her head, but didn’t say anything else, just nestled deeper into him. He stroked her arm and hummed soothing nonsense. He locked eyes with Hannibal over Mina’s head and gave a small smile.

            “After this, I believe we deserve a bit of time away,” Hannibal said softly, moving to perch on the edge of Will’s bed, near his thigh. He rested one hand on the top of Will’s knee, reassured by the warmth of his skin. “As soon as you’re released, I suggest we both take some time to recoup, possibly go somewhere warm where you can relax and recover.”

            Will nodded and closed his eyes, chest rising in a small sigh. “That sounds wonderful. I can’t keep doing what Jack asks of me, Hannibal. I shouldn’t have let myself be talked into it in the first place. This thing with Budge was… it came too close. You could have…” His eyes were watery when he reopened them and fixed Hannibal with a guilt-ridden, slightly hazy expression.

            “But I didn’t,” Hannibal said firmly, squeezing Will’s thigh. “And you didn’t. It is all finished, and we are alive and relatively well. Do you have any preference as to where we vacation? I was thinking somewhere in the Caribbean.”

            “What do you think, Mina-mine? You want to go somewhere warm and play in the water?” Will surprised himself by not arguing or overthinking the idea of leaving on a sabbatical. Hannibal was right, they _did_ need a vacation and he needed time to think about what he was going to do with his career. It was becoming more obvious that he would need to work somewhere outside of the FBI offices where Jack had no influence. He had stepped away from profiling for a reason.

            Mina shrugged and kept her face buried against Will’s skin. She was still too upset by everything that happened to have a happy opinion on anything. It was all right, they had time to decide. He smiled and kissed the top of her head. When he looked up, Hannibal’s eyes were on him, his gaze too intent and too solemn. Mina wasn’t the only one still upset over recent events. “I’m okay,” he repeated and was rewarded with a small half-smile and a nod.

 

 


	15. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Better late than never!! :D Thanks for sticking with me, guys. It really helps me make an effort when I see how many people actually like it. <3 Hope I don't disappoint.

*~*~*

            “I know you think you have Will’s best interests in mind.” Hannibal slowed his steps and carefully slid his hands into the pockets of his coat as Alana finally got to the point of her insistence on taking him away from Will’s bedside to walk around the hospital grounds. He forced his shoulders to relax and his face into his customary mask. It was harder than it should have been, his emotions still too high regarding Will. “But I think it might be best to give him a little space to recover.”

            Hannibal reminded himself that she didn’t know the entire truth behind his relationship with their mutual friend. He and Will had both agreed that it would be better to keep their relationship separate from both Jack and Alana. Will had stated in no uncertain terms that as colleagues, there was no real reason they needed to know. As a therapist, Hannibal hadn’t any choice but to agree with his insistence on reinforcing the boundaries that had always seemed rather vague. Jack Crawford had too much influence over Will as it was, and the agent didn’t need any more ammunition to keep his prize profiler on the job. And Alana… The dear woman was delusional when it came to her status in Will’s life. A fission of jealousy shot through him as he realized that if circumstances had been different, Alana could have easily taken Hannibal’s place in Will and Mina’s little family.

            “I don’t think you understand the circumstances, Dr. Bloom,” he said, tone just this side of icy. He felt a nudge of satisfaction when he saw her blanch a little from the corner of his eye. “Or the state of my relationship with Will.”

            “What do you mean,” she asked after a long moment where he didn’t elaborate. Her own tone was chilled as the implications hit home.

            “Up until now, we had both decided it was no one’s business but ours,” Hannibal didn’t bother hiding his irritation at having to speak of such private matters. He and Alana had been more than friendly through the years, the young woman bright and charismatic enough to pique his interest. One of the traits he had admired the most about her was her advocacy for those she deemed most vulnerable. It became less charming and more presumptuous when it was applied to Will and Mina. “However, we have entered into a relationship beyond professional acquaintances, and I have no intention of allowing him to push through this on his own.”

            They fell into silence, the only sound being the crunch of loose gravel under their feet as they continued to walk. Alana’s voice, when she spoke next was very quiet and too neutral, as if she were fighting to keep it even. “How long?”

            “Since the Shrike case culmination.”

            She brought in a slow breath and let it out before saying, slowly, “He was under your psychiatric care at that point, Hannibal.”

            He came to a stop in the path and waited until she stopped and turned to face him before he responded coolly. “I had already given my professional opinion on Will. As per Agent Crawford’s wishes, I was never truly assigned as Will’s therapist. I would like to emphasize the point that while your opinion is appreciated and valid, it has no bearing on how either of us proceed in our private dealings.”

            “You crossed a line, Hannibal,” Alana insisted. “Will is- he’s fragile and not entirely emotionally stable. Any influence you may have over him could end in disaster for both of you. As a highly empathic-”

            “Forgive me,” Hannibal interrupted gently, holding a hand out to forestall any more of her arguments. He realized he had been taking the wrong tact and spoke to correct the mistake. It didn’t take very much to put forth a wounded but dignified tone, “I must insist on ceasing this conversation here, Dr. Bloom. I will not argue further, as I have done nothing wrong. My relationship with Will and Mina is none of your concern and I have very little time or energy to defend actions that I do not believe need defending. If you excuse me, I shall be returning to Will’s bedside. Good afternoon.”

            Alana watched him turn and walk away, his posture screaming indignation. Frowning, she sighed and ran unsteady fingers through her hair. That hadn’t gone quite the way she’d thought it would. How had she missed the signs that two of her friends had been seeing each other? Will had been avoiding her, yes, but she had just figured it was because he associated her with Jack, and Jack was on the ‘no list’ for the moment. Thinking back on Beverly’s actions concerning Will’s daughter, Alana sighed again and started walking back toward the hospital. Everything made much more sense now, and she was beginning to feel like an ass.

            She had some apologies to make, but not now. Right now, it would seem that she’d overstayed her welcome and she didn’t want to add more stress to Hannibal _or_ Will. And to be honest, she needed a bit of time to process the fact that she'd grossly overestimated her place in both of their lives. It stung more than she wanted it to.

*~*~*

            Will was released nearly a week later, with promises of future surgeries once he had healed enough from the first one. He wasn’t quite happy with the concept of having to return, but knew that in order to regain full use of his arm and shoulder, it would have to happen. Mina had grudgingly adjusted to his temporary disability with Hannibal’s help. Will was impressed and grateful for the older man and his seemingly endless patience with the little girl. He joked that having a psychologist around wasn’t as bad as he’d first imagined. It was the first time he had ever seen Hannibal come close to rolling his eyes.

            Right at the moment, they were on their way to the airport in the insanely early morning, Mina sleeping in the backseat and Will resting against the headrest. He was still a little in shock that they were actually leaving for an extended sabbatical. Hannibal had explained the night before that he’d made arrangements with most of his patients to do their sessions over skype for the next few months to free up his schedule. The ones that had issues with it had been referred with little hesitation. Will was left with a plethora of emotions that he didn’t really know how to deal with. He wasn’t used to having someone in his life that would be willing to put him first, that would go through so much trouble to reroute their entire existence because he needed them. He wasn’t quite sure what to do with it all and a part of him was sure that the other shoe had yet to drop. Things never went this well for him.

            He was brought to the present when he felt strong fingers find his where they were resting on his thigh. He smiled over at Hannibal, and tried to shake the foreboding. As if he were reading Will’s mind, Hannibal murmured, “It will all be fine, Will. We shall be in the sunshine soon.” He had also arranged for a well recommended doctor on the island to keep an eye on Will’s injury while they were gone, a detail that had slipped Will’s mind until last minute. Everything had been thought of and taken care of.

            Will smiled and brought their joined hands up to his lips. “I know,” he said, but sighed and looked out the window. He confessed, “I can’t shake the feeling that something’s going to go horribly wrong and I’m going to be left picking up the pieces again.”

            Hannibal squeezed his hand and his thumb stroked the back of Will’s knuckle. He didn’t try to appease his partner’s anxiety, knowing that it would just be pretty words that Will would see right through. And he knew that it _was_ only a matter of time before everything did fall apart. Only it wouldn’t be Will left to put things back together again alone. Hannibal had no intention of leaving his beautiful boy to his own devices. No, in order to become more whole, there needed to be a break. A definite and horrid break. But then everything could be directed to his own liking.

            “I am surprised that Uncle Jack is letting us leave this easily,” he commented, drawing attention away from the thundercloud he knew Will could very easily draw over the beginning of their vacation. “I spoke to him yesterday and informed him of our departure. He sounded… resigned.”

            Will sighed again and looked away from the view outside of his window. “That would be because I talked to him right before I was released from the hospital. He came in while you were out, catching me without anyone to step in as a buffer.”

            Hannibal glanced over at him, lips going into a firm line. Will smiled and shook his hand a little, “Don’t worry, Dr. Hannibal. Agent Crawford isn’t going to be coming around again anytime soon.”

            “He is a very stubborn man.”

            “Yeah, but so am I,” Will said, and Hannibal reached over to stroke his cheek, then cupped his hand behind Will’s neck in a warm grip. Electric warmth shot down his spine at the familiar touch and he fought the urge to squirm in his seat. Intimacy had been lacking between the two of them since Will’s injury and the subsequent hospital stay and the week that passed between his release and their departure had been filled with nights spent with the men cuddled up with a sleeping Mina between them. Mina was less than enthused at having either of them out of her sight, especially when it was time to sleep. Her nightmares had gotten to the point that it was just easier for her to just sleep next to her daddy for the time being.

            The smile Will sent Hannibal's way was warm and knowing. Once they were at their destination and settled in, Will was sure that Mina would be so worn out by the excitement of their vacation and being at the beach that she should be relatively easy to put to sleep and carried to her own room. Then Will was going to show him exactly how stubborn he could be. The good doctor had been gentle and almost delicate in his handling, and while Will appreciated it more than he could ever say, he figured he was healed enough for more than just being held. It was his shoulder that was fucked up, not his entire body.

*~*~*

            **Turn About is Fair Play?** The headline, as far as they went on the crime tabloid, wasn’t as offensive as some of the ones Hannibal had seen. What made his jaw tighten and eyes narrow in barely contained fury were the pictures directly underneath. Somehow Freddy Lounds had made her way into the critical care unit of the hospital with a camera. In all of the three snapshots, Will was thankfully sleeping. The first one was a shot from the doorway, a full showing of the CCU room and a dark haired nurse checking vitals. The second was showing him fresh out of surgery and was a close-up of his bandaged chest, the hospital gown pulled to the side to show artfully bloodied gauze and wrappings. The third and most upsetting was one of himself, holding Will’s hand up to his lips, eyes closed as he sat vigil during those tense hours before his partner woke up.

            He looked disheveled and devastated, his own injuries on display in the unflattering light. Upper lip curled in a snarl of distaste, Hannibal started reading the article, his anger easing a little as he realized that Ms. Lounds quite possibly had made his own crusade a bit easier. The piece, while done in her usual tasteless flair, was very informative on the gritty details of Tobias’s basement of horrors and the events leading up to Will’s stabbing and Hannibal’s own assault in his office.

            After that, it was a quick dive into Will’s past, namely his ex-wife and the events leading up to their separation. The redheaded reporter made Will look like an abusive, unstable husband and brought up questions about how fit he was to be raising his young daughter alone. There was no mention of infidelity or any of the backstory Will had reluctantly provided him, and Hannibal wasn’t surprised. Will wasn’t one to air dirty laundry and if Ms. Lounds was true to form, her sources had a distinct lack of circumference. She had found the former Mrs. Graham and had reported only one side of the story, jumping on the current media coverage of the Budge debacle to push her own sensationalized agenda.

            It wasn’t how he would have proceeded, Hannibal mused, but it could certainly serve as a catalyst. He looked over the photos of the former Mrs, Graham and reluctantly saw what his young lover had been attracted to. She was wildly beautiful, curvaceous yet petite. One of the pictures provided was one of the happy couple on their wedding day. Crass and low budget, he thought with a flare of disgust and jealousy. The woman wore a simple white sundress, showing off more creamy skin than what was necessary, her strappy sandals hooked over her fingers and held to the side. Rich dark curls cascaded around her shoulders and back, one side pinned back with a large red flower. Will was in black slacks and a royal blue shirt, the jacket and tie obviously lost long before the picture was snapped. His hair was tousled and rakish, falling across his forehead and into his eyes. He was not looking at the camera, and he was not comfortable, though there was a smile playing across the sweet curve of his lip.

            He held the vile woman close, his hand spanning her waist as she playfully kicked one heel up and leaned into her new husband. Hannibal wondered how long it would take for her to get the nerve to seek Will and Mina out, now that the dirty little secret was in the open. She would feel more secure in her safety, what with Freddie Lounds having brought attention to the violent ways of her ex-husband. If she disappeared, then people would talk. And with that talk came some sort of insurance that Will wouldn’t do anything permanent when he saw her face again.

            As petty as it was, Hannibal was gratified that the woman had left no mark in her child. Little Mina was Will’s child through and through. He shut down his tablet when he heard her little voice coming closer as she raced through the bungalow that he had rented for their stay on the islands. It was a surprisingly comforting sound, the soft slap of tiny bare feet on cool tile and her sweet calling of his name. He wondered if she would ever call him something more meaningful. That was something he would leave to her discretion, of course, but secretly he waited to hear it.

            “Dr. Hannibal! Daddy and I found a biting-bug!” He turned his chair just in time for her to leap up into his lap. She was sunkissed and warm, already tanning to a light gold from their hours in the sunlight. There were streaks of blonde starting in her curls, and she smelled of sea-salt and fresh papaya.

            “A biting bug, you say?” He smiled and kissed the top corner of her forehead. “Was it ferocious?”

            She nodded and giggled, “Daddy says it’s not really a bug, but a crust… crus… Daddy? What is it again?”

            “A crustacean,” Will supplied with a chuckle. “They just look like bugs.” Will was looking much better, himself, despite the ever present sling keeping his shoulder and arm immobile. This clime looked good on him, the warmth and the proximity to the ocean making him more relaxed and happier than Hannibal had ever seen him.

            “Did you catch it,” Hannibal asked the little girl, “We could put it in a pot for our dinner.”

            Her nose wrinkled and she shook her head, “Eeew, no! I don’t like to eat bugs, Dr. Hannibal!”

            Will laughed and came closer, ruffling her hair playfully. “Then what did you have for lunch, munchkin? We had crab in our salad and you ate it all up.”

            She looked up at him with such a look of horror that Hannibal couldn’t help his own chuckle. Smoothly changing the subject, he squeezed the girl gently and said, “I am ready for a swim, what about you, Miss Mina? Shall we go to the pool?” He had been teaching her how to swim, much to her delight and Will’s consternation due to the fact that he was still another week out from being able to be under water. He usually sat in the shallow end on the steps and watched them with a silly grin on his face, calling out pointers and encouragement. Hannibal had the thought that he would be more than content if they were to stay just where they were for good.

 

 


End file.
